The Worst Thing that Could Possibly Happen
by Star-Of-Radiance
Summary: The new king found true love in one of the most beautiful, wonderful princesses on the planet. What could possibly happen? Let's recap: The in-laws loathe each other, Liam struggles to find true love and meaning, Eleanor wants to go her own way, Robert is possessive, Cyrus is drunk and Helena struggles with her lack of limelight- and the fact that she's going to be a GRANNY!
1. Chapter 1

**I'm taking a different approach from my other story so in this viewpoint, Robert's new bride realises that life amongst her in-laws are not as rosy as it should be- and that her new husband might have a dark side.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the _Royals_ \- _E!_ does. **

* * *

**Such Stuff as Dreams are Made On**

The mood was ecstatic and overjoyed, in terms of the British public.

Union flags and the royal family's faces hung everywhere; in the forms of paper flags, balloons, mugs, teacups, postcards, postage stamps, souvenir paraphernalia and more. People were cheering and dancing on the streets and cafés, restaurants, bars and so forth were working overtime.

"It's a true miracle!" The TV presenter gushed. "Prince- sorry, King Robert, died in a terrible accident which turned out to be a hijacking, and now he's alive and well- he's taken his rightful place and he's fallen in love. King Robert is one of the most eligible bachelors in the world, and he's fallen in love with and is marrying someone who is universally called one of the most beautiful- if not the most beautiful- woman in the world. She comes from the land of myth and legend- she's been called a modern-day Helen of Troy. Her beauty, warmth, charm and more are all extraordinary and Britain has fallen in love with her, almost as much as the new king has!" She gushed on.

* * *

"They did WHAT?!" Helena snapped. Her stormy grey-blue eyes glared at Rachel.

Rachel replied. "They sent back the invitations." Helena glared again and stood up from behind her desk.

"So am I to understand," she said dangerously. "That the heads of the various royal houses throughout the world, will not be attending my son, the king's wedding celebrations?"

"Well, actually," Rachel said meekly. "They are coming. The King and Queen of Greece sent invitations inviting them to their daughter's nuptials. They have responded: they're all coming."

Helena looked murderous.

Both Rachel and Spencer were deathly silent.

They dared snub me?! Helena raged. _Me?_ The Queen of England? Well, Queen Mother. She hated the fact that somebody was taking her place.

And that soon she would be relegated to royal mother, and mother-in-law. Or maybe even grandma. She shuddered.

* * *

None of the visiting royals seemed happy to be there, none were more unhappy than the Greek royal family.

"Greetings, your majesties, your royal highnesses," Helena pasted a very fake, very toothy shark smile onto her face. If only she could bite the bitch's head off.

Queen Anastasia of Greece gave a smile that did not meet the chips of Antarctic ice that were her grey eyes. "Your majesties, your English welcomes never fail to astound me. Is it any wonder that so many people worldwide are drawn to you and your court?"

Translation: 'You're a frigid bitch and it's a miracle you can be slutty enough to get men to want you.'

Helena gave a strained smile. How _dare_ she?! She was the queen of England! Well, Queen Mother. Helena's pride rankled when she remembered that she would be Queen _Mother_ , whereas this woman- the queen of Greece, would be remaining queen, _and_ her daughter would be taking Helena's title!

"How very gracious of you, your majesty," Helena fake-simpered. "Though I know we can never compare to your warm welcomes, and the warmth of your court. The masses are enthralled."

Translation: 'You're a common w**e. And very low one at that too.'

Anastasia knew it and her eyes hardened further.

"I am glad you should say so? How has the highly _esteemed_ royal family of Britain been? And how are Prince Liam and Princess Eleanor?"

This was an all-too brilliant reminder to Helena that the British royals- the Henstridges were suffering a series of crazy scandals that threatened to tear them apart. Namely not only Simon's murder and Robert's 'accident' but the paternity scandals that ensued over the twins' and Helena's own affairs and her subsequent war with her own brother-in-law, her children's uncle Cyrus.

 _You_ bitch, Helena's eyes said to Anastasia's very smug ones.

Anastasia smiled.

Just then Robert strode into the hall. "Your majesties," he said by way of greeting, bowing his head politely.

"Your majesty," Anastasia said politely. "Your majesty," King Konstantinos, her husband stated. "Welcome to London." Robert said with a warm smile. They thanked him. Just then, a tall, brutally handsome, but menacing-looking young man appeared. He stood tall in his dark clothes and he cut a terrifying figure.

"Your royal highness," Robert said, as pleasantly as he could. He hadn't forgotten this man's last meeting with him. He had tried to tear Robert apart with his bare hands, his eyes alight with nothing short of rage and madness. He was literally shouting an ancient Spartan war cry.

What the heck, Robert thought. And this man was about to be his brother-in-law.

Robert watched as Alexios, Crown Prince of Greece, titled Prince of Sparta, greeted Queen Helena. Helena's brave smile chilled for a single moment, and she suppressed a shudder.

She would _not_ be trying to hook up with this fellow.

"Good evening, your majesty, thank you for inviting us." That was Dimitri, Prince of Thebes, second son of King Konstantinos and someone Robert was no less wary of.

His smile was much too bright and cheery for the tense atmosphere.

"Your royal highness, Prince Dimitri, welcome to London," Robert said formally. Then he saw the one sight he wanted to see more than anything in his whole life: Aglaia.

Robert felt his very breath leave him as the whole atmosphere suddenly felt airless. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he was not biased when he said this. People in Greece said she was their Crown Jewel and boasted that she was Helen of Troy reborn and not without reason. That mane of black hair fell in gentle waves and loose curls to the middle of her back, and her skin was strikingly flawless with a sheen like mother-of-pearl or perfect pearls. Her emerald almond eyes shone and glowed with a special radiance. She was lovelier than anyone else there so beautiful it made his heart ache.

King Konstantinos saw Robert's reaction to his daughter's arrival and his eyes darkened.

The two kings caught each others' eyes and an unspoken reminder passed between them.

Konstantinos' eyes were grim but in agreement. Robert's promised peace and compromise.

For now.

* * *

The cameras flashed, while journalists shouted and cried out their questions, desperately hoping to gain the attention of the royal couple-to-be.

Princess Aglaia was so beautiful and her smile so dazzling and warm that there was absolutely no doubt that people would never be able to take their eyes off of her. Today she was wearing a mint-green satin short dress with a peplum waist, boat neck and three-quarter sleeves. The engagement ring glittered on her ring finger and nobody could take their eyes off her.

If there was anything they could agree on she was one of the most beautiful women in the world, or likely even the most beautiful.

"So your majesty, we were wondering when and how did you first meet?" That question was directed to Robert. Aglaia cast her eyes down modestly though a very lovely blush stained her cheeks. She cast her eyes up again when another reporter asked her a question.

"Your royal highness, we've heard that you were a baby during the Third Greek Civil War, but we heard a story that you were a symbol of hope, talking to the Greek people?"

Aglaia's smile faded briefly. She began to explain.

Needless to say the way she did it, and the story itself captivated touched many people. Everyone could swear that people had tears in their eyes.

And then another reporter asked: "Your royal highness, I've heard that you can speak Irish Gaelic. Can you, perhaps, say something for us?"

Aglaia smiled inquisitively. _"Cosúil le cad? Cad ba mhaith leat dom a rá_?" She asked earning the astonishment of everyone present.

"I'm sorry?" The journalist asked, blinking.

Aglaia smiled enquiringly. "I asked you what you would like me to say," she said calmly.

And so the questions went on, including the ones about her upbringing and everyone fell deeper in love.

None more than the new king sitting next to her.

* * *

Helena watched the interview from the television with narrowed eyes. "It seems everyone has fallen in love with the queen-to-be." Spencer remarked from behind her.

"Really?" Helena found herself saying. "So we know, she's as close to being a war hero as far as the anyone is concerned- several holocaust survivors have come forwards they embraced, apparently her story resonated with so many of them and theirs with hers. People are more than just profoundly sympathetic, however, they are openly and enormously admiring the new queen-to-be- even the republicans."

Helena nearly dropped her teacup. "They _what?"_

"There is... um, a drop in anti-monarchist sentiment lately," Spencer said, regretting he had ever opened his mouth. Why did he open his big mouth again? "Particularly in Wales, Scotland and even Northern Ireland."

Helena sat frozen, staring at him. "Why?"

"Well, the future queen has made herself dear to all the masses, it seems. She's fluent and proudly so, in Irish and Scottish Gaelic, she's also learning Welsh, Cornish and Manx. She's reaching out to people, and everyone sees her as, well..." Spencer tried to shrink away from Helena's impending fury.

"Just how many languages," Helena said, fury mounting. "Does one girl _speak?"_

"More than enough, your majesty," Spencer said meekly, seemingly trying to turn into a puddle.

"And how much... Love and support, can one _princess_ get from speaking so many languages and surviving a civil war and genocide?" Helena spat.

Spencer went oatmeal-white.

Helena shoved her empty teacup away, fuming venomously as she paced up and down the room, wishing to grab and axe from one of the suits of armour, so she could _behead_ her son's would-be-bride! Decapitate her into tiny pieces! How dare she?! It was that bitch of a mother's fault, no doubt, pushing her daughter into every available space on the spotlight, whilst reminding everybody that Aglaia would soon take Helena's place as the new queen. Helena sank down into a chaise lounge in despair.

Soon Aglaia would be the new queen. And Helena would be regulated to Queen _Mother._ Even Cyrus let her keep her title (until he almost married Prudence), but there was no room for two queens in Britain, as the Privy Council made quite clear.

"Your majesty," Spencer interrupted her despair. He gave her a winning grin. "May I help your majesty in any way? I am at, _Her Majesty's Pleasure."_ He emphasised her title and the phrase.

Helena stood and began unzipping the back of her dress. A good, lovely shag was what she needed to calm her thoughts and make her feel better. She allowed herself to be pacified at Spencer kissing up her leg and onto her snatch.

* * *

Liam drank from his flask whilst listening to depressing music.

This was not normally what he would do.

"Hey," a feminine voice interrupted his depression.

Liam nearly jumped up, and as a result he floundered ungracefully off his swivel chair, and nearly fell onto the ground, smashing his knee.

"Ouch!" he cried.

Aglaia winced and came up to help him. "You hurt your funny bone," she remarked to him, giving him a serious look in her green eyes.

Liam couldn't help but snort with laughter at the mention of that.

"Yeah," he admitted. She smiled at him.

"I'm sorry to bump into you like this," she admitted. "But... I didn't know who else to talk to. Forget it, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you," she stated.

"No-no, no, it's alright." Liam hurriedly assured her. "I'm always glad to have you here."

"Really?"

"It's like a breath of fresh air." He confessed. "You brought a new life into this place. Nothing's been right, not since Robert disappeared and Dad died." He looked down.

"You and Robert... Based on what I've heard and seen, he loves you, but you haven't spoken to each other lately," Aglaia said quietly. "I don't think he'll admit it, but he misses you." She confessed.

Liam chuckled bitterly. "I've been missing my brother for a long time." He looked at her. "I heard that you didn't grow up inside the royal palace in Athens." He said, changing the subject.

"Um, no, I didn't." She admitted. "I lived in an estate just outside of Athens," she said. "The Royal Palace, it's mostly symbolic. A ceremonial thing. We sometimes use it for balls and mostly we rent it out."

"You _rent_ it?" Liam could hardly believe what he was hearing. Well, he heard it in the TV interview before, but now...

"Yeah. I mean," she shook her head laughing. "It's such a huge space. The government uses it, the Prime Minister lives there, and members of the Ministerial Council- our Cabinet. But ordinary citizens also live there. They can rent apartments, it's affordable. Besides, how can one family live in such a big, empty space? It's so... Sorry," she hastily apologised to Liam.

Liam smiled slowly at her. "You surprise me," he said softly. "It sounds wonderful," he admitted. "Your upbringing. How did your parents do it?"

She smiled, shrugging. "They just did," she stated. "My father and mother were king and queen but they were also full-time parents and husband and wife. That was the most important thing. And besides, the people not only loved it when the monarch holds the same values towards family-first as they do, but it also ensures that the next heir will have a healthy, happy upbringing and a successful future. The spares too."

Liam was silent for a while. "I wish mine could have been the same." He stated. Aglaia's smile disappeared. "You'll find things are so different here in England." He informed her.

"You mean, in Britain." She reminded quietly. "There's Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland too, not to mention the Commonwealth countries. Maybe they need to feel like there really is a family. Maybe everyone needs reminding every once in a while. The king, queen, and all the princes and princesses."

Liam's smile slowly appeared. "I'd love that." He stated, looking her in the eye.

Aglaia returned the smile, just then they heard the sound of footsteps. "Aglaia?" That was Robert.

"Robbie," Aglaia smiled. Liam was all-too aware that her hand was on top of his and he hastily pulled it away.

A movement which was not unseen by Robert.

"I was wondering where you went," he said slowly.

"I was here, talking to Liam." She said. "Would you like to join us?" She asked, her smile melting any ice that may have lingered.

Robert smiled slowly. "Of course," he said.

* * *

"Γαμώτο," The heir to the Greek throne muttered. Damn it.

"The wedding guests have all replied, they're coming," his brother Dimitri spoke to him in their native Greek.

"Good thing Mother sent out all the invitations before Queen Helena did."

"Queen _Mother."_ Dimitri reminded him.

Alexios and Dimitri did not like the idea that their baby sister would be the queen of England anymore than Helena did. They would much rather her stay in Greece where she was certain to be _safe._ Not with those damned Henstridges.

"Do you think Cyrus will retaliate?" Dimitri asked.

"I think not just Cyrus, but Helena and possibly the twins are the danger," Alexios stated calmly.

"They'll try to harm her," Dimitri said, blankly. Inwardly, he felt colder than arctic ice. "They're going to kill her. She's doomed, brother. They're going to murder her before she gets anywhere near old age. If not the Henstridges, then their enemies."

"They won't try at the wedding." Alexios determined. "Not then. We've also begun security preparations for the coronation." Once she got back from her honeymoon, Aglaia would be crowned queen of Great Britain: England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland- and the Commonwealth Countries.

"They tried to kill Robert, I don't think- for all he loves her- he's enough to keep her safe." Dimitri said in an undertone, in case any eavesdroppers were fluent in Greek. "They already killed King Simon. Does it matter that Ted Pryce is dead? There are many others. Everyone knows it can be done."

Alexios did not answer as he was too busy contemplating how they would try to kill the mother of the next heir to the throne and Robert's wife.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own the** _ **Royals**_ **.** _ **E!**_ **Does.**

* * *

 **My Only Love, sprung from my Only Hate**

Aglaia was dazzling- to say the least.

Helena was scowling.

Eleanor was smiling. Jasper was arm-in-arm with her for once.

Aglaia saw them both and secretively winked at her.

At the pre-wedding concert, she was astounding.

Helena had worn an expensive gown in teal green lace over tulle with a boat neck and half sleeves. There was a massive emerald on her bodice.

But Princess Aglaia had had everybody awaiting her in anticipation, before they all involuntarily gasped at her arrival and could genuinely never take their eyes off her.

She was in rose petal pink, almost nude in colour, a princess-cut gown which showcased her tiny waist and a full tulle skirt and the skirt and bodice glittered and shimmered with crystal in certain sections and she had short sleeves. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant up-do.

Robert smiled dazzlingly as he beheld her, sweeping forwards to take her into his arms in a dance later.

"My darling," he whispered. His eyes glowing with genuine love. "My love."

Aglaia's own eyes were shining. But Robert could not forget, in the back of his mind, when he had seen Liam with Aglaia. She didn't know, she had absolutely no idea...

But he had seen the way Liam looked at her. Only this time, it was Robert Aglaia's eyes were fixed upon and no one else.

And he would make sure it stayed that way.

* * *

"My darling," The queen of Greece warmly said. "May I spend a moment with you, Αγάπη μου?"

"Of course," Aglaia smiled and stood. Nearby she saw Robert watching her go with a glow in his eyes- a secret which was only for her. She smiled at him and he smiled at her- a secret smile which she was only meant to see.

"Mother what is it?" Aglaia asked as her mother dragged her deep into the wine cellars.

In answer, Anastasia produced a pill.

It was a round, dusky-black ball, nestled onto her palm. "Take this when you go on your honeymoon." Anastasia stated.

Aglaia looked blankly. "What is this?"

"Phoenix and Unicorn Pill, the Chinese call it. It's one step away from magic. Works like a miracle. It will heighten your chances of conceiving."

"Because," Anastasia stated. "You are going to be living in a viper's nest and your life will be in incredible danger." She hissed. She grabbed her daughter by the arms.

"Your mother-in-law resents the fact that you are here to steal her lemon-light-" _"Lime_ -light," Aglaia immediately muttered. "Your brother-in-law had to be shoved aside in order for your husband to take his rightful place, his uncle was shoved _off_ the throne and onto the metaphorical _dump_ so your husband could sit there, your sister-in-law sneaks LSDs and other drugs and intoxicates her friends when she invites them for a drink, and your husband's family has made so many enemies that you could get shot just by standing near them." She hissed. "Or they could use you as human shields!" Her green eyes were livid. "So I'll be _damned_ if I don't take every possible precaution to keep you safe!"

Aglaia stared at her mother, aghast. "And how does this... pill fit into all of this?" She asked faintly.

"They will kill you before you have a chance to conceive an heir," Anastasia snapped. "To get Cyrus or any of his _idiot,_ half-wit daughters onto the throne, or Cyrus having an act of revenge. Or maybe Liam and Eleanor are being idiots again, slipping something into your morning coffee when they get the chance." Contempt dripped from her voice. "Or maybe Helena just can't _stand_ the idea that she's going to be someone's granny, something a boob-job and layers of botox necessary won't fix. Or your in-laws' enemies." Hatred dripped from her voice at the words 'in-laws'. "Either way, they'd kill you even when you are pregnant, but this will increase the chances of a multiple pregnancy. And while an accident involving the new queen and-or- one unborn baby will be easily dismissed, an 'accident' with a multiple pregnancy- possibly twins- carried by the queen of Britain will be too fishy for them to even risk it. Take the pill and for heaven's sake, take the bowls of medicine I've ordered prepared for you in the morning afterwards!"

She stared at her.

"I'm giving you a personal cook." Anastasia informed her. "To prepare all your meals. And the medicine that will heighten the chances of conception to be taken afterwards, along with the pill. Three bowls. I want you to drink them all, Aglaia." Aglaia opened her mouth, about to protest. "No arguments! Your life is in danger and any child of yours too!"

Aglaia shook her head, desperately. "Why?" She asked, faintly.

"Because these people are _crazy!"_ Anastasia snapped. "This isn't some random herbs grown in a backstreet in China town, these are real, _powerful_ medicines. High-class bio-tech. Among the most potent fertility medicines in the whole world, _scientifically_ agreed by every qualified doctor in the western hemisphere as well. You need to produce an heir and a spare, Aglaia, more spares in fact, a whole basketful of spares!" Aglaia stared again at her mother. "That way when an egg drops, there are more in its place."

"They're still going to try to kill the baby- babies!" She protested. "MOTHER- really? You have to say that?"

"Well, in that case, we're giving you extra security," Anastasia said grimly. "It's natural for us to continue providing you with security as you are still- and will always be- a member of our family. And we already have teams of people, our own Special Operations and military intelligence sweeping Westminster Abbey from catacombs to spires and steeples for any bombs before anything comes." She paused. "It might be a good idea to sweep the nursery too. I'll have Dimitri check it." Queen Anastasia looked hard at her daughter. "Don't trust anyone here."

Aglaia opened her mouth again, but closed it, unable to speak.

"Oh my God," Anastasia suddenly whimpered. She pressed a hand to her mouth and turned around, her eyes dripping with tears. "My daughter's going to marry into crazy-town and all the kids might be..." Her lip trembled and suddenly she burst into tears.

"Mother!" Aglaia moaned. Queen Anastasia continued wailing.

"Okay!" Aglaia held up the pill. "I will take this, to make you stop wailing or saying these things!" She waved it around.

 _"And_ the medicines," Anastasia reminded. Her tears instantly vanishing. "All three bowls."

"All three bowls," Aglaia said.

"Every single drop."

 _"Every_ single drop."

"I'll know if you don't."

Aglaia nearly face-palmed. "What are you going to do- spy on our honeymoon?"

"How do I know if your husband's doing it right?" She snapped. "You could be doing it wrong! The position! Maybe just oral-"

"Mother!" Aglaia groaned. Her face was burning.

" _Inspire_ him," Her mother hissed. "I'm going to give you a copy of Karma Sutra-" "Mum!" "Or maybe some scents that are meant to stimulate a man's libido and his hormones- scientifically proven. I have some oils to pour in the bath and to rub on your skin. Drives them wild, makes them lust like an animal, a bull on heat-"

"La-la-la-la-la, Mother, I'm not listening!" Aglaia blabbed, panicked, pressing her hands against her ears.

"With looks like Helen of Troy, that shouldn't be hard."

"I think I'm going to throw up." Aglaia muttered.

* * *

Aglaia sat on the sofa after the evening's entertainments. A glass of red wine was in front of her. Her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands.

"Hey," Robert entered the room, smiling, and loosening his tie. He leaned against the doorway.

"Hi," She managed a smile.

"What's gotten you all riled up?" He asked her, concerned. "Where's your mother?"

"Gone to check for nursery bombs," Aglaia stated, blankly.

 _"What?"_

Aglaia sighed. "My mother... Is convinced my life is in danger. She doesn't trust your family. None of them do." She said, trying not to sound _too_ miserable. Aglaia shook her head. "She... Told me that your uncle might try to kill me out of revenge- and to prevent me from producing the next king or queen so anyone of his daughters could come next. Or that Liam might be resentful as well. Or that..." She shook her head. "That your enemies would kill me before I conceived or after I became pregnant." She couldn't bear to tell him everything. Her face was hot with shame.

Robert was instantly by her side, enveloping her in his warm, strong arms, and tilting her head up gently. "Aglaia," he said gently. His eyes were shining, though concerned.

He would only show this side for her, he thought. _Only_ her. He was hers and she was _his._

"What else did she say," he asked gently _. God, how could I love somebody_ this _much?_ He thought. _Is it possible?_

"She gave me this," Aglaia showed him the pill, encased in a plastic container. "Chinese medicine. Called a Phoenix and Unicorn Pill. I've researched it, it's one of the most powerful medicines in the world, agreed on all medical practitioners."

"For what?" Robert was baffled. "Fertility," Aglaia stated, blushing prettily.

She was truly lovely when she blushed, Robert thought. He felt his arms tighten around her possessively. He wanted to possess her-now, tonight.

"She also gave me a cook- to ensure that no one poisons my meals and who would prepare me three bowls of medicine the night after I've taken the pill. It's going to increase the chances of..." She blushed deeply.

"I see," Robert remarked, slowly. He sighed. "I know. And I truly don't blame her. Watching my family is like watching a circus show."

Aglaia looked and smiled sadly at him.

"I still love you, though." He admitted. "I can't remember loving anyone or anything this much."

Not even Kathryn. _Definitely_ not Kathryn. Aglaia was _his_ and his _alone._

And he wouldn't let her go, for the whole world. Not even for his mother, his brother or even his kingdom. Not even for Eleanor.

"I love _you,"_ she breathed. Robert held her close. "Where were you all my life?" He wondered aloud.

* * *

As far as the Greek princes were concerned, croquet was the most boring game the English aristocracy ever cooked up.

Alexios sulkily shoved a ball into that... ring, whatever that was called. He forgot, and he did not bother to find out.

"Hello," Princess Eleanor appeared. Dressed- as always- in a very short skirt and high heels. Her bodyguard followed closely behind. "This is Jasper," she introduced him. Prince Liam appeared, somewhat dishevelled.

"Your royal highnesses," Jasper intoned. Dimitri subtly narrowed his eyes as he turned around. Something was not right about him.

The head of security- the one who replaced the infamous Ted Pryce- appeared. "Your royal highnesses, I am James Hill, head of His Majesty's security." Dimitri grunted. "I've been informed that the princess- our future queen- is being surrounded under heavy guard on the orders of well," he cleared his throat. "You. And Their Majesties, the king and queen of Greece-"

Dimitri swung his mallet.

"And that Westminster Abbey has been swept thoroughly for months now, by the Greek Intelligence Services and Special Operations forces." James finished.

Both princes turned to look at him.

"It has," Crown Prince Alexios stated. "The Greek parliament and the Ministerial Council- our Cabinet- has issued their orders. So did my parents. We're not going to take any risks with this princess." He fixed them with his icy stare.

A deadly, highly pregnant silence stretched between them.

"But your royal highnesses-" James began.

"You know we're capable of doing that right here," Eleanor pointed out.

"We know," Alexios responded as Dimitri took another shot.

"In any case, your highnesses, I am sorry to put this forwards, but the guards surrounding Her Royal Highness have been uncooperative towards our own," James stated. "They surround the princess all day and all night, and are most admirably diligent, but they refuse to allow us room to manoeuvre. Or to take shifts. As you may well be aware, as the future queen of the United Kingdom, Princess Aglaia is entitled- by law- and required to accept members of the king's and the royal family's security-"

"We _KNOW."_ Both princes cut in, turning spontaneously towards them.

"Believe me, we know."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own the** _ **Royals**_ **. That's** _ **E!**_

* * *

 **Did my Heart Love till now?.. I ne'er saw True Beauty till This Night.**

In the dressing room, Aglaia tried to calm her nerves. Her mother and very few others were allowed in this room.

Aglaia tried to calm down, as they did the finishing touches to her hair. Nobody could agree on whether or not her hair should be left loose- 'like a virgin', curled, waved or straightened, or bound in an elegant bun, a chignon or an up-do. No one could agree. In the end they compromised. Aglaia's mane of black hair was gently waved and with loose curls partially fastened, the rest cascading down like a waterfall, but not enough to impede the view of her beautiful dress and veil.

Her mother passed her a rosary. Aglaia saw her kiss it, and pass it to her bridesmaid, before Aglaia kissed it herself. "May God be with you," her mother stated.

The old English custom was for the bride to wear something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue. And a silver sixpence in her shoe.

"Your tiara is borrowed," her mother stated. "And the blue ribbon is underneath your dress. Your earrings..." Her mother handed it out.

Aglaia gasped. They were clear diamonds, delicate and teardrop-shaped. "Thank you," she whispered. Her mother smiled. There were tears misting in her eyes. "They're new. The old- apart from your mother-in-law- is your lace." Aglaia bit her lip when her mother said that. "And you have a silver sixpence built into your shoe."

"It's time." Someone said.

The bridesmaids were waiting down below. Little Sarah Alice was among them, unbelievably excited. She stood with a group of other little girls and a few young ladies just waiting for the bride at the foot of the stairs.

Before Aglaia appeared.

* * *

On the way to Westminster Abbey, Liam and Robert sat side by side. Outside the crowds could barely be restrained when they arrived there. On their way there had been a great deal of cheering, and the crowds were so thick they could barely pass, despite all the policemen and security.

"Look, I know, I've been a real bastard," Robert broke the uncomfortable silence. "I was bitter. I was angry. Not just at you, but at the whole world... And myself. I was hurting, but I didn't think it was important. All I felt was the need to be something else- the perfect prince, the perfect future king. And I hated it Liam. I secretly hated it. But I couldn't say it to anybody or stop... Not until I arrived on that island. I was a mess inside and out and I thought the best way to fix it was to shove it back- but I took it out on you, and I have no excuse for that." He admitted. "I'm sorry. More than you can ever know. For saying those things to you... For Jasper, and more. I wanted to be the man I was before, but something changed in me, Liam. I can never truly go back. And for that and more, I'm ashamed." He finished.

Liam looked at his brother. Robert was full of sorrow for once on this special day. "It's okay," Liam said softly. "Everyone changes. The most important thing is to remember that at the end of the day, we _are_ family and we will always be there for one another. I love you, brother. No matter what happens."

Robert smiled slowly. "I love you too, brother." He looked puzzled. "That sounds exactly what Aglaia said to me once."

"It's good that you're marrying her," Liam admitted, a slow smile spreading across his face. "She's been good for you, and for Britain. And for the family. I'm just really sorry Dad never got to meet her. He would have adored her."

"Yeah, he really would." Robert stated. Eleanor had said the same thing. Even Cyrus when he was drunk and unashamedly joking.

The car pulled at the abbey and the rest of the royals were there. Penelope and Maribel, regrettably, wearing quite _bizarre_ outfits. Penelope was in a rather hideous shade of maroon with a headpiece that looked like a rooster desperately trying to put itself out of the flames, while Maribel was in yellow, she looked like a giant egg yolk. Robert had rarely seen his cousins ever since he got back. If there was one thing that hadn't changed, it was _them_. They were quite dopey. Well, Maribel did have plastic surgery, but she was essentially still the same.

The car arrived at the abbey. The roars of the crowds were so loud that guests began seriously wondering if the building would collapse with them inside it. Robert smiled, a slow, dazzling smile full of joy and no pretences as the cheers intensified. Then drop-dead silence.

Outside, Aglaia stood out and the sun spilled onto her. She was, undoubtedly, the most beautiful queen the masses had ever seen.

Her gown featured a fitted bodice with bared shoulders- a rather risqué thing for a royal bride, much less a queen- and cap sleeves. The bodice was covered in lace and crystals which flowed onto sections of the skirt, which was mostly pure white _peau d'ange_ silk but was adorned with sparkling crystals that glittered and caught the light, reflecting it back. The silk itself was smooth and very fine. Faint patterns were there, flowers and/or stars, like Botticelli's _Primavera_ , but it wasn't too much. Regal and romantic the dress had taken months to perfect. Good thing too. Even the veil itself, with its lace detailing was expensive.

The princess made her way into the abbey on her father's arm. The bells started ringing, people cheered louder than before and the ceremony began on the walk to the aisle.

Guests inside gasped as the bride made her way up, and Cyrus rolled his eyes, guzzling down his liquor in a flask. Typical Robert, always getting what everybody else wanted. Why should this be any different?

"It's like she swallowed the essences of like, a million supermodels," Penelope muttered from somewhere beside him. "A billion- supermodels, movie stars and Kim Kardashian." Maribel muttered. "Not to mention, Paris Hilton in the mix somewhere." "She's old." Maribel muttered crossly. "And she looks horrible." "Less horrible than you." "Oh, shut up!" "You shut up!" "Your hat looks like a rooster pooping on your head!" "You look like its egg yolk," "Both of you, _please_ shut up!" Cyrus remarked, rolling his eyes. He took another swig. He was going to need it.

The ethereal music faded and Aglaia looked up from beneath her veil to her soon-to-be husband's. Helena was smiling. Even she could not deny the joy of this day. Only for her look to sour when she caught sight of Queen Anastasia not two seats from her. Eleanor sat on her other side.

The ceremony commenced. Lots of droning words and so forth. The rings. The scriptures. Candles. And the fact that the bride and groom stared at each other, "moony-eyed," Cyrus remarked. Guests and spectators outside, later said they had never seen a couple so much in love.

The vows came. And the rings. After being stuck on a dessert island with few things to remind him of his family, Robert wanted one for himself, instead of sticking to tradition and jamming only one ring on his wife's hand. This was going to be a new tomorrow. A new day, a new age and a new life- with her, Aglaia.

Finally, they were pronounced husband and wife, and a thunderous roar shook the building from outside and guests began to wonder if they were going deaf.

"Should I get my ears checked?" Penelope asked dopily. For once, everyone was wondering the same. All except for the bride and groom who were about to make their way down the aisle, beneath the canopy of swords and then onto the carriage ride which Aglaia secretly detested.

* * *

"Big smiles!" The photographer called out.

The new king and queen both smiled radiantly that day, the pictures were taken. The wedding party was soon called out. Liam stood beside Robert, glad that this rift between them had mended, Helena stood beside him and Eleanor beside her. Cyrus looked bleary-eyed and sulky- the only person to look that way. Princess Penelope looked confused. Like the wrong chicken just pooped on her head. Princess Maribel didn't look much better.

The cameras flashed.

Once that was over, the king and queen stood receiving the well-wishers of countless royal guests.

"Look at them. I never thought I'd see a royal couple so _happy_ and _so_ in love. My wedding wasn't that widely-broadcast." Anastasia remarked next to Helena.

Helena gave a strained smile. This was a jab at her own extra-marital affairs and her strained marriage with her own husband.

"No, sadly it wasn't," Helena remarked back. "But I'm sure if they saw it, the entire masses would have wished you a happy ending. And a glorious tenure as queen, no doubt."

Translation: 'You just weren't important enough for anybody to care about you. During your wedding and coronation.'

"As glorious as yours, Queen Mother," Anastasia said simply. Quietly putting an emphasis on the word Mother. "If only mine had been as glorious as yours."

Helena's smile grew strained. She was no longer queen. Now the masses were chanting out Aglaia's- Greek- name and the waves of the Mediterranean and the English Channel had swallowed her up without a ripple.

"What's this?" Aglaia asked her father. He winked at her. "A wedding present." He answered. "Something much more personal." She smiled at him with love in her eyes.

"It's time." "WE WANT THE KING! WE WANT THE QUEEN! WE WANT THE KING! WE WANT THE QUEEN!" The chants outside the palace grew louder and louder with each stroke.

"Yup, I'm getting my ears checked," Eleanor joked. "Me too," Liam said, smiling.

"They're calling for you," King Konstantinos reminded his daughter softly. "For both of you." Aglaia's husband stood, smiling, his eyes shining as he saw her, and held out his hand. "Come."

The doors opened with a thunderous roar and a cheer.

* * *

The party was fabulous and lasted all through the night without being stuffy, dull and overly-formal like most royal events to Eleanor's mind, but not wild and crazy like the ones she was used to which would end up with her being wasted.

The only one about to be wasted was Cyrus. He was still drinking heavily, his face puce reddish-purple, his eyes webbed with red. The food was delicious- and in-poisoned. To Cyrus' disappointment there was no Red Wedding-like event, or even a Purple Wedding where the groom keeled over and promptly died, choking from poison. Only Penelope sniffing the champagne and gagging nearly vomiting while her sister cackled madly.

Sarah Alice was supposed to be in bed. "What are you doing here?" Jasper teased, head cocking to one side. "Dad sent me off to bed. But I had to see them dance. Like Aurora or Beauty and the Beast."

Jasper smiled. Robert was acting better now that he'd married her. Sarah Alice was overjoyed and excited when she became a miniature bridesmaid and even got to go out onto the balcony to hear the cheering, see the kiss and wave while the RAF saluted them.

After the dinner they cut the cake, and fed each other a slice before dancing.

And in the meantime, the new queen's two brothers watched... And their eyes were fixed on quite a few people.

* * *

 _In the honeymoon suite, quite far away..._

Princess Aglaia- now queen- swallowed nervously. Her husband had gone off somewhere. No doubt to try to 'cool off'. Which left her plenty of time to get ready.

To her relief, her mother had entirely forgotten to bring her a Karma Sutra book. However, she did send some very slippery and sexy lingerie, much to her daughter's mortification, and lots of bath oils and aroma therapy which Aglaia was _certain_ was meant to stimulate libido, particularly a man's.

Oh, for goodness' sake, this was her _mother_ pulling the strings!

Now Aglaia went to the bathroom. She spotted an open note on the granite sink. It stated, quite blankly: 'Πάρτε το χάπι.'

' _Take the pill'._ Okay, so her mother just had to put it there. And she was probably stalking her too, Aglaia shook her head, flushing scarlet.

But she reached out and took the Phoenix and Unicorn Pill from her bag, anyway. She swallowed it with a glass of water.

Wait, it wasn't all what she said. 'Ανάψτε την αρωματοθεραπεία. Ρίχνουμε τα έλαια στο μπάνιο. Δεν χρειάζεται τη μουσική, απλά πηγαίνετε γυμνός στο λουτρό.'

Translation: 'Light the aromatherapy. Pour the oils in the bath. You don't need music, just strip naked.'

Now Aglaia's face was burning. She face-palmed. But she had no choice. Hopefully her mother did not bring in hidden cameras to inspect their amorous activities. Desperately trying to rid herself of those thoughts, she did the aromatherapy, ran the bath, poured in the oils, worked it into a gorgeous lather and stripped naked. She immersed herself. The hot water was a balm to her nerves. She closed her eyes.

She was in there for a while, trying to relax, before she stood.

"Relaxed are we?" Robert's hungry voice sounded. She spun around.

Her treatments clearly worked if the look in his stormy blue eyes and the bulge down below was any indication.

* * *

The next morning Aglaia opened her eyes. Sunlight was streaming in, and... She blushed crimson just remembering yesterday's activities. It wasn't as if they hadn't done it before, but now...

Robert nuzzled her neck. "Morning, sweetheart," he said huskily. "My darling wife."

Aglaia sighed and sank herself back onto him.

"Have a good night?" Robert's teasing voice asked her.

"Yes," she admitted. "Sorry if I pounced on you a little," Robbie admitted. "I was a little over-enthusiastic, wasn't I?"

 _That could hardly be your fault,_ Aglaia thought. The queen of Greece was too damned smart.

She shuffled a little. "Are you hungry- how long have you been up?"

He smiled. "Long enough." His grin turned mischievous. "And the only thing I'm hungry for is..."

Aglaia laughed. "We have a whole lifetime for that," she reminded him quietly.

His grin widened. "I know."

Later, Aglaia- dressed suitably in a white linen dress was halted by the Cook who appeared on the honeymoon with them.

The old Chinese woman, the only one trusted by Queen Anastasia, shoved a tray with three steaming bowls on top towards her. On the tray was a paper note. It said:

'Πίνω!'

Meaning: 'Drink up!'

Aglaia stifled the urge to groan and drank all three bowls.

* * *

 _In London..._

"What? These are all for her?" Helena was aghast.

"For the new queen, ma'am." Spencer winced, soon after he said that. "And the king."

"Well... What are they?" Helena spluttered.

From Russia, we have an antique desk set with black diamonds that once belonged to Catherine the Great. From China, and antique Imperial Green Jade pendant in the shape of a phoenix. From India, an exquisitely engraved jewel box and set that once belonged to Mumtaz Mahal, the one whom the legendary Taj Mahal was built for, a set of Venetian glasses and mirrors from, obviously-" he coughed. "Venice, Italy. A gorgeous wrap and shoes from Diane von Furstenberg, a pair of pumps from Dolce and Gabbana, a handbag from Versace, an evening gown from Valentino-" "Wait." Helena interrupted. "All these designers _gave_ these things to Aglaia?"

"Well," Spencer looked uncomfortable. "Yes, your majesty." Helena sank back in shock.

"As in for free?"

"As in for free." Spencer confirmed dully.

"And there's a massive quilt. A patchwork, one patch made by every household in a small village in Scotland. There's another one from Wales, I believe." Spencer finished meekly. Helena felt faint.

They loved her. Damn it, everybody loved her.

And she was having a lovely time being banged on her honeymoon, by her _adoring_ husband and as a queen, no less.

And nobody loved Helena.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: No-** _ **E!**_ **owns the** _ **Royals**_ **. Not me!**

 **To** **Superdani4Ever** **: Thank you! Yes, they are sweet, but keep reading. And the mother has a good reason to be scared for her daughter's life, even though we might question how she goes about trying to save her! Just remember, what do the other royals must have thought when they hear about King Simon's murder, how Ted Pryce was killed- and Robert's hijacking, the twins' paternity case- with fake DNA and bribed scientists and more! They thought their daughter was marrying into somewhere far too dangerous to comprehend.**

 **To** **Guest Reviewer** **: Thank you- I will!**

* * *

 **Old Fashions please me… Not so nice to Change the Rules…**

The new king and queen returned from their honeymoon and the council knew it was soon time to put forwards a coronation date. Honestly, Aglaia couldn't care less. Until someone asked her what her regnal name would be.

"What's wrong with my name?" She just blurted out.

"Nothing." Robert stated. He gave the cabinet minister a look. "There is nothing wrong with your name. She is Aglaia. Does it matter if it was Greek? A large percentage of the names used in British society, like Katherine, Sophie, Zoe and even Helena- have Greek origins."

"Yes, but-" the man tried to put a word in edge-wise.

Robert shook his head sternly. "She is Aglaia. That's more than good enough for everyone involved."

The man nodded, bowed and left. Robert and Aglaia looked at each other with those gooey eyes that made Helena feel sick. _Ugh._

Eleanor did not share the same feelings. She was smiling. "So…" She spread out her hands. "What are you going to do… On your first day back as queen?"

Helena's face took a sour turn.

"Well, firstly I would like to review the state of the country," Aglaia said calmlu. "That isn't limited only to England, but Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. I want to look at our relationship with the Commonwealth countries and how they're going on in their parts of the world, the standard of living for every class, the standards of education, what they're teaching children in schools, the level of bullying, the various opinions on health care and so forth… I mean, I know," she said hastily, turning to Robert. "That this is a constitutional monarchy. But it doesn't mean that we have to be relegated to a ceremonial role alone."

Helena gave a pinched smile. "Believe me, that is not the only thing a queen can be relegated to. We may have no other choice."

Aglaia looked up at her. "Or we might." She said. "With all due respect, this is the royal family. The duty of every monarch and their consort, princes and princesses, is to serve their people in every possible way, if that means giving our lives for them, then it is a way to prove our devotion. Some of us were chosen to do public service. Others were born to do it. What did Julius Caesar say in Shakespeare's play? 'Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them'? I think to say that we really were lucky but as royals we have a duty to prove ourselves worthy of our exalted positions."

Robert smiled. "I couldn't have said it better myself." He said proudly.

Helena might as well have swallowed vinegar.

"But you are the queen of England now," she said, trying to quell her feelings. "Surely, it is too risky to… Go out like that."

"The proper precautions will be taken," Robert assured her. He turned back, smiling at his wife. "And with all due respect," Aglaia stated. "It's Queen of the United Kingdom of Great _Britain_. Unless Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland have all declared their independence, then perhaps it is best if they feel as if they are included. We have a duty," Aglaia declared. "To all our peoples."

Helena looked exceptionally strained.

Liam and Eleanor's eyes were both wide as they held their cakes and macaroons in their hands and gazed at their new sister-in-law.

"Remember the French revolution." She reminded them. "This… This is necessary."

"I agree," Robert said quietly. "Things are going to change."

No, Helena thought. They already have.

* * *

"Wow," Eleanor remarked. "Wow," Liam agreed, helping himself to more mash. "I just didn't know… Didn't think anyone could do it like that," Eleanor marvelled. "That anyone could believe in that. I mean, just like Dad." She looked at Liam. "And she's not sticking to the rules, Liam. She's… Going her own way. But she's doing it… With style." She posed and grinned.

Liam chuckled. "Dad would have really loved her," he said quietly.

Eleanor looked down at her plate. "Yeah," she agreed. "He really, _really_ would have."

"Robert's lucky to have her," Liam said softly.

Eleanor sighed. "You have no idea. We're all incredibly blessed to have her, Liam. After months, if not years of scandals, broken hearts, Dad's murder and Robbie's… Now, we're starting to feel like a family again. And I'm starting to feel, for the first time in my life, that I have a calling other than getting high and wasted. I've got Jasper. And now I have a new sister. You know she's convinced me and Jasper to go out on a date?" She asked mischievously.

"No- really?" Liam asked incredulously.

Eleanor took a bite of her sausage. "We've never had a date for as long as we've been together. Mostly it was just… Leaving notes for each other, sex, sleeping and you know, the usual stuff."

"Yeah," Liam said. "The usual stuff."

"But now, we're actually going on a date," Eleanor said, trying to conceal her amazement- and her excitement. "We're actually going out. I mean, I didn't want to be with anyone else before, but now, I actually see a future for us _together."_ She grinned happily. "Liam… We have a future." She said slowly.

Yes, Liam thought. Len definitely had a future. And so did Robert… With Aglaia. Something squeezed in his chest, around his heart.

And Liam… What did Liam have?

* * *

Aglaia had been reviewing everything with Robert.

"Look at this," she said quietly.

Robert peered, frowning, looking at the papers.

"Domestic violence," Aglaia said quietly. "It's taking a rise, here in Britain. Particularly in big industrial cities, such as London and Edinburgh. But we don't have much statistics on the smaller towns and rural areas. That needs to be checked into." She flipped a few pages.

"The family of a deceased sergeant of the SAS… Apparently the courts said that he could have been saved. The operation was faulty, but even worse, the family's compensation… Ghastly," Aglaia muttered. "And more and more child abuse." She looked up at him, angry. "Why do these people just become parents, then? I know abortion is a controversial thing, but you can easily give up the baby for adoption, even embryo adoption, or take contraception and birth control."

People aren't always the smart when they're on heat," Robert said dryly. "Or intoxicated."

"The standard of living… I'll have to take a look into it," she remarked.

* * *

Liam as silent as he strode through the halls of the palace. Nearby, the television blared. They were still playing the wedding footage. The balcony kiss shared by Robert and Aglaia was dubbed. "The most romantic kiss in the history of romantic kisses," by critics. Who knew there were kiss critics? Liam certainly didn't.

Len was going on a date that night with Jasper. Robert was still… Over the moon with Aglaia…

Aglaia… There was the problem. She was everything anyone could possibly dream of. And she had absolutely no idea, being cut from a different fabric from the Henstridges- of a much higher quality it appeared- from a very different royal family than they were.

A family that hated their guts. Liam saw some of the Greek security there. He frowned, wondering if he should mention it to Jasper and James.

"Your royal highness," James looked understandably distressed. "Why are there Greek guards still here? I thought the king and queen went back to Athens?"

"To, ahem, protect the new queen, sir." James responded looking incredibly unhappy and displeased.

"What- they didn't think-" Liam cut himself short. He remembered their conversation with the Greek princes just before the wedding. And it hit him:

They didn't trust them. The Greek royals didn't trust them with their daughter's/sister's safety.

Well, in essence, who could blame them? Ted Pryce was head of security.

But still, Liam got the terrible, uncomfortable feeling that they were all being watched…

* * *

"So what's new?" Queen Anastasia asked over the phone.

"Well, I've reviewed the state of the country," Aglaia said simply. "There are things that need to be done."

"Excellent." Warm pride showed in her mother's voice. "And… What else is there?"

Aglaia blinked. "What else _is_ there?"

Silence.

"Anything… New you wish to announce soon?"

Oh, rats. _That._

Aglaia stifled a groan and closed her eyes. "Mother," she said warningly.

"Tell me at least, did you take your medicines?"

"All of them- the pill, and the morning after, the one in the bowls."

"And did you do the aromatherapy? Strip naked and pour the oils in the bath like I told you?"

Aglaia's face was burning. "Mum!"

"Well, this is important!" Her mother defended herself. "How many times did he take you on the first night?"

"Mother," Aglaia almost moaned.

"Did he do it right?" Her mother persisted. "Or did her just do oral or anal? Is he only into that stuff?" She muttered. "What about contraceptives? He hasn't been taking them, has he?"

"Mother, please!" Aglaia all but begged. "Stop! I can't talk about this right now- not with you. Besides, I haven't been experiencing any symptoms."

Although Robert's libido was comparable to what the Olympian gods like Zeus, Poseidon and Apollo might have had.

"Symptoms will come soon enough," her mother said sagely. "But how often did you two…"

Aglaia sighed, her face hot. "He has the sex drive of an Olympian god of legend." She muttered, her voice low enough for only her mother to hear.

"Of course he does," Anastasia was sardonic. "He's a Henstridge. He's more decent at least, than the mother, the uncle, the cousins and the siblings. They're all sex addicts."

"Mother!" Aglaia was genuinely horrified. "Please- don't say things like that!"

"People are wondering why on earth we allowed you to marry into that family," her mother hissed. "I'm sending your brothers-"

Aglaia lost track of the conversation as she had a good feeling that it was _not_ going to go so well.

* * *

"Why?" Helena moaned. "Just… Why- _why?"_

Less than three days into the job and everyone had already fallen madly in love with Aglaia. They had never cheered Helena half as much when she was first married- and that was seen as a fairytale.

Not as much as this one, apparently.

"After months if not years of scandals, loss and heartbreak, new hope has arrived in the horizon in the form of a new queen." The TV presenter declared. "Queen Aglaia has already caused countless peoples worldwide to fall madly and deeply in love with her, almost as much as her husband has. She's everything we could possibly dream of and more."

"That's correct, I have to agree," the male presenter said. "She has a unique combination which includes all the grace and poise of a born-queen and all the warmth, charm and openness of someone who isn't stuck-up. I mean, have you seen the way she interacts with everyone?"

Footage showed of Aglaia kneeling and interacting with children. They handed her posies of pink roses and white lamb's breath. She kissed them, spoke and made a special deal out of them. People rushed to try to hug her- masses of them, Helena thought in horror. Struggling to… To… _Kiss_ her. Aglaia only laughed, smiled and waved.

Robert was there for more than several occasions too, Helena realised, horrified. Among the crowd! Barely any security! She fumed. She would have to speak with James Hill later.

"She is the Crown's most precious jewel, bringing a new life and existence to a monarchy so badly shaken by scandal, murder and loss."

Helena closed her eyes in despair.

* * *

Later that night, Robert stood, fastening his tie. Aglaia, flushed and shaky, Robert saw with a grin, managed to get up off the bed and was going to dress. His grin widened. He was going to make her even more shaky and flushed afterwards.

Right now, he tried to get his thoughts into working order and not give into _seriously_ powerful temptation. "I- um, have to go," she admitted. "Your sister is expecting me. It would not be wise to keep her waiting."

Robert smirked and pulled her in for a kiss.

"Don't keep _me_ waiting, love," he said huskily. "I could never dream of keeping the king waiting. I am at _His Majesty's Pleasure."_ Robert chuckled at that, while his stormy-blue eyes gleamed. He kissed her again.

Aglaia tried to get herself into working order as well. Eleanor needed help dressing for her date- she had asked Aglaia to help her out.

"Oh, thanks for coming," Eleanor said gratefully as Aglaia entered the room. She was in her dressing gown. "Which one?" She asked desperately.

Aglaia frowned, contemplating the outfits Eleanor held out to her. "Why not try…" She then had an idea.

A few minutes later, Eleanor was dressed in an exquisite black and gold dress. It wasn't as short as she was used to, but overall, the look was subtly elegant, more feminine and graceful than Eleanor's typical 'sexy wild-child' look. The gold bordering and accents gleamed but did not take place in the form of glittery, sparkly sequins, this was more subtle and expensive-looking. There was a small motif at the bodice and the skirt was slightly pleated but didn't stick out the way the dressed Eleanor usually wore did. It clung to her figure, but wasn't skimpy tight the way her outfits normally were- it concealed and flattered her at the same time. After shoving her sister-in-law onto the dressing table, Aglaia had a pair of curling tongs, eyeshadow and liner and a bunch of other things which she had set about using to make Eleanor look gorgeous.

Now her hair was in loose, wavy curls. She had applied eyeliner and shadow, blending them to achieve mostly black but with hints of gold and green lighting to highlight not only Eleanor's eyes but also the gold on her dress. Her cheeks were a warm colour with subtle hints of gold and her lips were rosy and luscious. Overall, the effect was feminine, simple and beautiful. It enhanced her natural features making her look more womanly with a special, radiant glow.

The new queen smiled. "Here." She added a special touch: a hairpiece made of gold in the shape of a starburst, pinning it to Eleanor's hair. "What do you think?"

Eleanor's jaw dropped. "I… I look…" She turned to her sister-in-law, her eyes shining. "Thank you." Aglaia grinned. "Now go," she gently nudged. "Enjoy your night together."

Robert was outside, adjusting the links in his cuffs, he turned when he saw someone walking towards him. His eyes widened. It was his sister.

"Eleanor?" He asked incredulously, taking her all in. But it couldn't be- could it?

Liam was walking by when he saw her. His eyes bugged. _"Len?"_ He asked incredulously.

Aglaia smiled. "Off you go- you're going to be late." Eleanor giggled- yes, giggled- and off she went.

"Wow," Robert remarked. "I almost didn't recognise her."

"Everyone changes throughout their lives," Aglaia said softly. "We're all moving forwards, that's the most important thing."

 _No,_ Liam thought to himself. _Not all of us._

Liam was depressed. Robert and Aglaia had gone off to a formal event. Len and Jasper had gone on a date. His mum was with Spencer, only God knows where, and he was in the palace, still alone.

"Alright sir?" That was James Hill.

"Yeah," Liam said, trying to look convincing. "I'm fine."

James didn't buy it. He sat down next to Liam. "Is it because you're all alone here?"

Liam sighed. "It's just… Everybody's moved on with their lives. Everyone's done and everyone's happy."

"And who says you can't be?" James boldly pointed out. "You have a right to be happy."

Liam looked sour. "Happiness never lasts for me."

He remembered Ophelia. She was his first very serious romance. Gemma had disappeared somewhere around the time the paternity scandal popped up. But he had been truly and utterly serious about Ophelia. And she had decided she didn't want him. Kathryn too had decided on Robert. But even that didn't work out, and Liam had battled his own brother to win her heart… And lost. Now Robert met and married the love of his life, Eleanor was moving on with Jasper, where did that leave Liam?

Alone and miserable, just like Cyrus. Hopefully he would marry the next woman he sees who gives him two dopey offspring, and eventually leaves him. If he was lucky, he could get the occasional hook-up. But he was in danger of being alone and miserable just like Cyrus.

James Hill gave him a look. "There was someone around here who was looking to see you."

Liam's head shot up. "Who?"

The only answer he got was a long look loaded with meaning. "Someone who's been forgotten about… Like you." Hill finally said, before he stood up and left.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: No-** _ **E!**_ **owns the** _ **Royals**_ **. Not me!**

* * *

 **We know What We Are, but not What We May Be**

All throughout Britain, new statistics showed that the standard of life was higher than ever in Britain.

Employment rates had dropped drastically, health rates and standard of living had gone up. The new queen had founded organisations and charities to ensure such things happened.

Helena had protested. "We can always raise money during galas and concerts."

But Aglaia shook her head. "How many people are actually more interested in seeing the entertainment? Besides, it will take too much time. Things also need to be organised."

To pacify them both, Robert had suggested that they experiment with these new ideas, before going so drastically into it.

But to their surprise and everyone's utter amazement (except for her family back in Greece, perhaps) the months that followed saw a massive drop in all things negative it seemed, while all things positive rocketed... Courtesy of the new queen's doings.

* * *

Helena gasped and groaned as she tried to kick the coffin lid with her stiletto heels, ramming it again and again, in desperation to get out. She tried calling out for help. It was no use. No one would come. She tried screaming: Spencer, Robert, Alistair, Liam, Simon, Eleanor- bloody Cyrus even, anybody! But no one came.

Helena screamed as loud as she could while thrusting her foot upwards again, when she gasped. Her foot was bony- no it was all bones, caked in dirt and mud and riddled with earthworms. Her skin was withering, sagging and looking more and more like curdled milk. It was curling black and peeling leaving her horny-looking toenails with holes within them and fungi- so not their natural state- trapped within the stiletto straps. Helena screamed when she saw the rot reaching up her body onto her beautiful ivory satin dress with the gold-leaf embroidery, withering and turning black with soot, dirt, ashes, worms and maggots- maggots that got into her skin. Helena screamed even louder when she felt them burying and eating their way within her as the rot spread onto her beautiful hair and her face-

She jolted awake.

Helena moaned and sank back onto her bed. The nightmare had only just begun.

* * *

Robert's kiss lingered longer. The two of them were in bed- again- and Aglaia hoped with all her heart her dear mother did not set up cameras within the confines of their bedroom.

He was breathing rather heavily and his eyes shone. Aglaia snuggled closer to his side.

His arm moved her closer to him and he kissed the top of her head.

But there was something bothering him. His dark blue eyes were filled with a growing worry.

Robert wondered if he should broach the subject.

"Back at the party," he finally said after a while. "There was someone... I heard them... Talking."

Aglaia frowned.

"They didn't think I was listening," Robert continued. "But... I heard talk about someone... A Greek naval captain..."

Aglaia stiffened. "Leonidas."

Robert froze. "You know what they're talking about?"

"He was my ex-boyfriend." She said quietly. "Back when... We were young. The relationship ended, though people- as premature as it was, were expecting us to be married."

Robert stared at her. "Why?"

Aglaia sighed. "I was eighteen, and everyone was counting down the days when the three of us- Alexios, Dimitri and I- would be married. I'd been with Leonidas since I was sixteen, and he seemed rather... Eager at the idea, but I didn't want to."

Robert relaxed slightly. "Why didn't you want to?" And why did they want you to? He thought to himself.

"Because I wasn't such a big marriage fan until I met you," Aglaia admitted. "And you convinced me otherwise. I broke from tradition- both Greek and royal- in a number of things. I didn't want to depend on a royal allowance- you knew that- I hated the idea of marrying so early, and Leonidas grew suspicious and became... Overbearing. It didn't help that people were pressuring me to get married, and when they saw that Leonidas and I just weren't working out, they started pushing a number of young men towards me- some of them were Greek- aristocrats or wealthy heirs, others were European, some were even royalty. The pressure was enormous," she admitted quietly. "I hated it. I doubted any of them truly loved me. I couldn't stand it. I needed to get away."

 _But surely, they thought it was a better match than the king with a crazy, scandal-ridden family and murderers hounding their every step,_ Robert thought. He wasn't blind. He wasn't stupid. He knew the Greeks were horrified and appalled when they heard that Aglaia was going to marry him. She had a talent- just as he did- for evading the paparazzi and keeping out of gossip columns. He had to concede a lot of things in order to get them to agree to let him marry her. For starters, Aglaia had to keep her religion- she was Greek Orthodox still. Even as Head of the Church of England- though it was all ceremonial, Robert's wife- and consort remained as such. Their children would be allowed to be in line for the Greek throne- except when the firstborn took the British throne, to add to the Greek's succession, sadly decimated from years of civil war and even genocide. Of course, once Alexios married his fiancée and they had children of their own, and Dimitri did the same, it wasn't as vital.

But accidents _do_ happen, Robert thought darkly. Though could they be considered accidents, he remembered his own hijacking and his father's murder, or...

Aglaia looked unhappy. "I'm sorry I brought it up," Robert said softly, kissing her again. "I don't want to spoil the mood. I trust you. Do you trust me?"

Aglaia looked up at him. "Of course."

He grinned. "Then, perhaps now, we can continue..."

* * *

The next morning, Robert left early, much to his reluctance. Aglaia lay in bed, thinking and silent.

She told Robert about the pill and the bowls of medicine. And he had been surprisingly amicable. Of course, the British needed their own line of succession as well, and Robert knew he needed to pacify his in-laws. But...

There was the fact that she couldn't bear to tell anybody that her mother Anastasia was still... Suspicious and wary, though Robert had guessed. The reason for all this...

Aglaia suddenly felt cold. She felt a something stir in her stomach and the need to heave. She rushed to the bathroom as quickly as she could.

It was not pleasant. And it was a surprise to consider this, but considering the state-of-the-art Chinese medicines...

Aglaia sighed and took the pregnancy tests her mother had helpfully provided for her. Three of them.

The first one came positive. But it could be a mistake, though she was doubtful. The next one came after her morning coffee and breakfast. The third one...

She couldn't deny it anymore; she was pregnant.

* * *

Cyrus downed the brandy in one gulp. Clearly he needed more- much, much more.

Footage of the wedding was still being played even though it was some months now. He rolled his eyes. Robert... Gooey and all in love. He grimaced and gulped some more.

Robert had everything; the wife with the looks of a Grecian goddess and Helen of Troy, the kingdom, the crown, all the love and respect... It was making him feel sick. It was all Cyrus had ever wanted and everything had been denied to him.

It just wasn't fair. He had to live in Simon's shadow, how soon before Robert got his new queen pregnant and how many kids would they have? And then behind Liam and Eleanor was none other than Cyrus himself. Who would have followed Cyrus? That's right, his two half-wit daughters.

Cyrus resolved to get himself very, very drunk. There was nothing he could do now with the Greek royals immaculately scanning everything including him. He knew they trusted him the least out of all the Henstridges and that was saying something.

The door knocked. "Come in," Cyrus called, rolling his eyes.

The woman who entered the door turned out to be his ex-wife. "You." Cyrus muttered. "What do you want this time?"

"I hear the new queen has guards surrounding her every second of every day- and I'm not just talking about the typical guards surrounding you twenty-four seven since the minute of your birth," Veruca Popperwell, Duchess of Essex, remarked. "So truly there is no way to get to her?"

Cyrus rolled his eyes. "Firstly, let me be clear: there is nothing we can do. We can kill Robert, but that would put Liam on the throne. Plus, our new king has been humping his breathtaking new wife every night- and day- now. Boy has the sex drive of one of the gods of Aglaia's homeland. She could be pregnant right now. So unless you want me to murder them- and need I remind you that the Greeks are watching our movement every minute of every day- than it's useless. Plus, two of them are coming here."

"What do you mean two?" Veruca asked sharply.

"The Greek Princes Alexios and Dimitri are here to... pay a cordial visit and inspect the security surrounding their sister, the new queen," Cyrus remarked, drinking more brandy. He looked down at his glass. It was depressingly empty. He liked to swill it neat. Cyrus poured some more and as an afterthought, poured some for his ex-wife.

"We can't do anything with them watching," Cyrus admitted.

Veruca rolled her eyes. "So you're just going to sit back here and accept defeat? Since when has a ruling king of England been dethroned?"

"Henry VI," Cyrus answered smartly. "Edward IV. It was the War of the Roses- the Cousin's War, they called it. Apparently the Privy Council is determined that there should only be one king and with the new queen by his side, I fear that anyone trying to get in their way will be torn to shreds- no throne for Penelope or Maribel, I'm afraid. They would much rather see this new king and queen on the throne. According to statistics, the monarchy hasn't seen much popularity before- not even since before Simon died and Robert 'disappeared'. So not even a Cousin's War is possible, my dear."

Veruca gave a glare. "So here you are, the former king of England, disgraced and dethroned and you're going to give up without a fight?" She spat.

Cyrus gave a sinister smile. "Whoever said that?" He asked quietly. "But be careful, my dear. Even the walls have ears... And sometimes they speak Greek. So let's shut up now, shall we? Now where's that good, lovely shag you've promised me? I feel so depressed just hearing everybody except Poor, Dear Liam, have sex."

* * *

"Are you sure?" Robert asked quietly. Aglaia nodded. "I took the test three times."

Robert was silent for a moment as he began to absorb the news. Then in a single step he went over to Aglaia and kissed her. And then kissed her belly.

"I haven't told anybody yet," she whispered. "Only you." Robert grinned.

"I want to keep this between us," she admitted. Then she cast her eyes down. Robert was instantly aware of something. "Love, what is it?" He asked urgently.

"I... I want to... Now that we're going to have a family... I understand what we have to groom and train them for... But I want to give them a happy, healthy upbringing too," she stated. "After all, they- especially the future monarch- aren't supposed to grow up spoiled and pampered, taking everything for granted. They're brought up to serve."

Robert's eyes were filled with none other than love. "They'd have the best upbringing." He said finally. "Because they have the best mother. And I am the luckiest man alive." He kissed her.

"Well, um." Aglaia rushed, taking a deep breath. "I want them to... Have a more relaxed environment to be brought up in before we introduce them- little by little- into the world of royal protocol. Have them understand what it truly means to serve before sticking them into a world of rules and regulations that confines them and their creativity."

"Of course," Robert answered. It was a good idea- with how rebellious Liam and Eleanor turned out at first, if his parents had done the same, perhaps they would have had a happier home life.

"And to do this... I would like to move into Clarence House." Aglaia said in a rush.

Robert was stunned. "What?"

Aglaia winced. "I... You know when I was a child, I didn't grow up surrounded by gilded walls- we were raised... Simply. Taught to do chores and to be thrifty. Taught to respect adults, and to take responsibility- just because our father was the Crown Prince, and later the King, didn't mean we had no responsibilities. Even I, and I was the youngest of the brood. I made my bed, I did my laundry, I washed the cars, even with my brothers and I learnt to bake and cook. I was given an allowance and they indulged us only on our birthdays. We had to save money if we wanted to buy anything. We grew up responsible and we appreciated how people worked hard." She took a deep breath.

"When we were young... Our parents decided we were going to build a little cottage. I was too young at that time, but my brothers laid the foundations- our parents paid them as much as the regular labourer's wages. We grew a vegetable garden, herbs, fruits, and the produce would be assessed by our father and the locals there and we would be paid the growing market rate- same as everyone else. We learnt to clean and keep house there, to cook and bake. We learnt to appreciate what our own people were going through instead of being spoilt, soft and taking everything for granted. We learned- ever since we were that young, it was ingrained very deep into us- to help others. The importance of our duty to our people." She paused.

Robert was silent for a moment.

Robert was silent for a moment. "If it means that they would be raised to be like you, I have no doubt, that you will be the best mother," he stated clearly.

"And another thing- I would like to limit the media exposure to them."

Robert nodded. "Anything else?"

"You have to be there- I know we'll both be very busy but-" Robert placed a finger to her lips.

"You don't have to ask," he said quietly. "I'll be there. I'll be a father just as I'm your husband. Those are my most important jobs."

Aglaia smiled with genuine joy and Robert did as well, before leaning forwards to kiss her.

* * *

"So," Aglaia began. "How did your date go?" She had a teasing light in her eyes. Eleanor smiled.

"Mm, it was wonderful," she said, setting down her wine. "We went out on a yacht, we dined... It was... Incredible, like the way I've totally never experienced before." That set smiles everywhere.

Unlike with Simon and Helena, the new Queen Mother Helena saw that while she and Simon would be seated on opposite ends of the table, Robert was at the head and Aglaia directly to his right. More than often, Robert's hand would move and hold hers tightly in his own, as if he was afraid she would leave him.

Nobody, Helena reflected glumly. Had ever done something like this to her before. Not Simon, not Alistair- nobody. Helena wasn't the only one who noticed however, as Liam saw it as well.

Was this why she was feeling so gloomy lately? Helena wondered as the thought struck her. Was it because not only was Aglaia receiving all the love and affection anyone could possibly summon for her- and more- by the British public and the whole world, but also because she had Robert's whole heart as well- her own husband?

Helena's marriage had never been so happy. The great love of Simon's life, the one he would have married, was Dominique Stewart. After realising that her husband still loved her, even though she was dead, Helena had grown deep into depression. After Robert's birth, Alistair had somehow reappeared back into her life. But theirs was a clandestine relationship and Alistair made it clear he no longer wanted to see her again.

Aglaia had everything anyone could possibly dream of. Not only the glory, praise, wealth and material things one expected as a born princess and a queen, but a loving husband, and it looked as if the family genuinely adored her too.

Eleanor smiled, and showed them the wine she and Jasper got on their date. They had went to this special, secluded lodge and the dinner was delicious beyond comparison. She offered to pour Aglaia a glass.

Aglaia shook her head, smiling. "Oh, thank you, but no. I'm afraid I won't be drinking wine for a long while now."

Everyone looked at her, confused.

Aglaia lowered her eyes still smiling, looking at Robert. They noticed he had a special, secret smile on his face as well.

Helena's jaw dropped. She can't be... Can she?

Eleanor gaped. "You- you aren't-"

Their smiles were answer enough. Robert was also still holding onto her hand rather tightly.

It hit Helena like a sledgehammer. "Oh my God, I'm Royal Granny!" She said, before she passed out.

They all turned to stare at her.

* * *

"You _are?!"_ Anastasia sounded gleeful, even ecstatic.

Aglaia rolled her eyes. "You definitely sound surprised," she said sarcastically.

"Oh, make no mistake I'm happy," Aglaia could practically hear her mother mentally break into a Broadway number, sing a heavenly chorus, shout and scream for glee at the same time. "Although I daresay I can't say the same for your Botox-riddled, cougar mother-in-law."

Aglaia closed her eyes. "Mother," she almost moaned. "Can you please... Try to be nicer about her- about them all? I mean, technically, you're going to share a grandchild together and as much as the new queen mother likes her looks and her perpetually youthful reputation, it's in her best interests to keep her son's legacy alive- that includes whatever offspring he has."

"Very well." Her mother said sourly. "But still... I'm warning you, don't trust them- any of them. That's why I gave you those Chinese medicines. Remember- Ted Pryce was their head of security- and they trusted him."

Aglaia never forgot. She was there when she saw the footage. It shook the whole world... And raised questions about security. She also heard that the paternity test involving Liam and Eleanor was faulty- in other words, they never happened and the officials and labs were bribed- quite possibly by Cyrus.

In other words, she did understand why her mother, her father and brothers and everyone in Greece- and her relatives outside of it- were so fearful for her when she married into the Henstridge family. How do you protect yourself from the ones who were supposed to be the closest to you?

"In a few months time, Alexios and Dimitri wish to visit you," her mother promptly announced. "They would come sooner, but right now... They're a little held up at the military."

Aglaia was instantly alert. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, everything's fine," her mother dismissed her worries. "So... Have you checked with the doctor yet?"

Aglaia sighed. "Almost."

"Well, there is a chance that you are having a multiple pregnancy, I did say that."

"I know," Aglaia muttered rolling her eyes, wondering why she even listened to her in the first place. "Possibly twins, like Liam and Eleanor."

"Twins... Well, that's one pair in the family. It might not be so unusual." Her mother said. "My little Aglaia... A mother." She said quietly, tears practically seeping from her eyes in the other end.

Aglaia sighed. "I'll bring them up the way you both did to us."

"I know you will," Anastasia said softly. "You'll be the best of mothers. I'm so, very, very proud of you," she said trying to contain her bittersweet feelings. It was always so joyful… And yet so painful to let a child go farther and farther away from you.

* * *

The pregnancy was announced by a palace spokesman- as per tradition. Ecstatic congratulations and more poured in by the millions- if not billions.

"Breaking News: the most exciting news we've had since the royal wedding- Queen Aglaia is currently pregnant with the royal couple's first child. Congratulations are pouring in from all over the world, and excitement for the royal baby is in the air. People are not only ecstatic, they- well, we- are all overjoyed."

"Yes, Elsie, I believe that people are saying that- finally- a star of good fortune is shining down upon the royal family after so long a time full of scandal, murder and heartbreak. People are taking this as a sign that the curse is broken and Queen Aglaia is the monarchy's lucky star and Britain. I hear she's fluent not only in English and her native Greek, but Scottish Gaelic, Irish and Welsh. She's also learning Cornish and Manx and now people are saying that finally, we are going to have a king or a queen who will grow up fluent in those languages as well as English. Needless to say, the Scottish, Northern Irish and Welsh are so proud- especially as the queen and king took to announce news of the pregnancy in Edinburgh and Cardiff in their respective languages-"

And on it went.

Presents started appearing- though the majority of them would be kept until the baby was born. Congratulations and well-wishers were rampant, and now everyone was starting to believe that good fortune was finally smiling down upon the British monarchy.

Cyrus swilled down liquor.

In the meantime, Aglaia confided to Robert that they might be dealing with multiple babies.

"You mean twins?" Robert asked incredulously.

Aglaia took a deep breath. "Yes." She stated.

Robert was floored. "We still need to check the ultrasound though."

In the meantime, security was increased. Her meals were still being prepared in her own private kitchen by the Chinese cook her mother trusted.

And Helena and Cyrus were going through acupuncture treatment.

"So she's going to be a mum," Veruca said sourly. "The little Greek bitch who looks like a goddess is going to be a mother and Robert's very attractive genes combined with her own to have a stunning baby."

"Yes, it does rather seem that way," Cyrus conceded, before the acupuncturist pricked him again.

Veruca the Duchess of Essex tossed back her auburn curls and sniffed. "So that's it?" She snapped. "What about Penelope? And what about Maribel?"

"What about them?" Cyrus asked. Veruca glared. Cyrus sighed. He would have shrugged but it was advisable to keep as still as possible when undergoing acupuncture. "This is now irreversible. The first royals of a new generation. Liam, Eleanor, even our darling girls Penelope and Maribel aren't having babies anytime soon. Now, they're determined to see this pregnancy through." Veruca looked murderous. "Oh, and by the way, Queen Anastasia has put guards around her daughter's personal kitchen so that even Helena won't be able to access them. Or our security guards who do not cooperate with her own."

"So?" She snapped. "We'll just have to compete with that, won't we? Who says Penelope and Maribel aren't attractive?"

Cyrus sighed. "Being so far from the line of succession, I don't think you'd understand. If Penelope and Maribel- somehow, by some miracle- manage to pop out legitimate babies before our devastatingly breathtaking goddess of a queen manages to pop up hers, they'd still be directly in line for the succession. Why? Because even if Liam and Eleanor are somehow removed from the line of succession, Penelope and Maribel's brats are going to carry something other than the Henstridge name so they won't even have any titles."

"Are you enjoying this?" Veruca snarled. "Because it seems like you're enjoying the triumph of the ones who dethroned you!"

Cyrus smirked. "My dear, I enjoy aggravating you. Pointing out all the missing angles to your brilliant plan. There's a difference. Let them enjoy this moment, before it's snatched away from them."

Veruca was instantly curious. "What do you mean?"

"I mean to say," Cyrus sighed. "That the in-laws don't like us much. The smallest thing happens, they would barge in here, and take the queen back to Greece with her baby and never let her leave. Of course, that would set dear Robert off against them- he could never deal with anyone taking his beloved wife away from him- I'd like to see them all try."

Veruca's eyes went wide. "You're planning something, aren't you?"

Cyrus' eyes turned away from her. "I daren't say. You don't know how many stunning Greek eyes and ears are watching and listening to this right now." He almost smirked underneath those needles.

* * *

Liam looked at Aglaia. Silently, he knew Robert was coming back.

Once upon a time he would have fallen madly in love with her, but now he told himself she was Robert's and he wouldn't pull another one with her as he did with Kathryn. Robert deserved to be happy. So did she and neither of them were the type to go around having affairs. Least of all with family.

But Liam couldn't help but gaze and stare at her when Robert wasn't around. He noticed how she glowed. How she was even more beautiful than she normally was- and that was saying a lot. Her skin which always seemed so luminous, seemed to glow even more and her hair shone more lustrous than ever. She was still graceful and slender- carrying the weight of her baby in her beautiful curves while she was willowy and graceful still. He noticed there was a rosy flush in her face and she had that secret shine in her eyes that spoke of a wealth of love and tenderness for what she was carrying within her.

And Liam heard her laugh... And he wondered.

They had developed a firm friendship- just like the ones she developed with Eleanor, James Hill, Sarah Alice and so many others. People just adored her. And Liam felt- as ridiculous as this was- that he knew her better than the rest of them- that secret part of her, which only Robert was so fortunate enough to know completely- which Liam had glimpsed and cherished far more than the Crown Jewels. That smile which Liam couldn't help but stare at, and made his heart skip a beat and soar higher than the clouds. With her unbearably lovely eyes, combined with that warm, yet dazzling smile, Liam knew that it was impossible for anyone to resist her.

Even more so when they got to know her. Everyone just fell in love with her. And always Robert was the lucky one.

And now they were going to have a baby together. And Liam... What did Liam have?

The sad, bitter truth was, Liam would do anything to have what Robert had. Not the throne, but...

Everything else.

* * *

"What have I done to deserve this?" Helena moaned from her chaise lounge.

Spencer gave her a winning grin. "You're still the world's hottest granny to me." His voice sounded hungry.

Helena raised an eyebrow. "And what about the queen of Greece?" She questioned, her face souring as she remembered Anastasia- that upstart bitch. As if she was better than Helena.

Spencer scoffed derisively. "She doesn't even come close!"

Helena was pacified. Spencer grinned at her with a hungry look in his eye.

"Are you sure?" She said, standing up. It was time to reward this man and to prove what he said was right.

"Very, very certain, your majesty," Spencer said, still grinning like a fool.

"Well then," Helena replied. "Would you care to... Inspect a little closer?" She slipped off her dressing gown from her body and let it fall to the floor. She wasn't even wearing lingerie.

Spencer swallowed, looking like he had just been presented with the moon and stars.

* * *

Robert held her close as the scan went through. Then they heard it- a heartbeat.

Wait, no- two heartbeats. Aglaia frowned. "One of those heartbeats isn't mine, is it?" She asked sceptically.

The doctor shook his head. "It appears..." The screen showed everything. A black and white mass and outline of... Two babies. "Your majesties, you are expecting twins."

Robert breathed out. Well, that was to be expected. After all, Liam and Eleanor were twins, weren't they? This meant that... Well, if he could be a brother to both of them, naturally he could be a father. He already had Aglaia- and she would be the best mother in the world, just as she was the true love of his life and his soulmate. He had a longing to kiss her again, but the doctor was in the room.

Aglaia leaned back and relaxed into Robert's arms.

"I'm sure they'll be talking about this," Robert said dryly. "Twins... And so soon after the wedding."

Aglaia sighed. Her mother... She didn't even know what to do or think. But did it matter? She was going to adore her babies and any more children Robert would give her.

"What about Clarence House?" She asked him. "The nursery there..." She stopped when she saw her husband's look.

Robert shifted uncomfortably. "Aglaia," he began. "I've spoken to them about Clarence House. And apparently, they aren't happy at the idea of the monarch and his consort residing somewhere apart from Buckingham Palace and all the others."

"What?" Aglaia was stunned. "But... Why?"

Robert sighed. "While royal babies have been raised in households far from home in centuries past, but without their parents, apparently people feel... That it is the obligation of the monarch and his spouse to continue living in the very publicly-seen residence of Buckingham, Balmoral and Windsor Castles... And so forth."

Aglaia was aghast. "But... We won't be the only royal family to do this! The king and queen of Sweden live in Drottningholm palace and the Spanish king and queen the Zarzuela palace, apart from their royal residences..."

"But they're still official palaces," Robert stated. "Clarence House is too small for a monarch to do about his daily business- that's what they felt."

"That's rubbish!" Aglaia hissed. "My father went to the royal palace every day and came home to our private estate. What's wrong with Clarence House? It's definitely a lot closer!" Robert looked upset. "Aglaia, I don't make these rules," he defended himself.

"But you're the king." She responded sharply. "You could chose to make new ones. And can't you see this is for the benefit of our children?" She snapped.

Robert's eyes flashed. "Of course I do. Do you think I want them to grow up like spoiled brats?"

"Well, I don't know how you want them to grow up!" She retorted. "Maybe you'll train the heir and forget the spare? Do you think that for them to live in a highly publicised environment where everyone and anyone can see them at every single second of the day- is healthy for any child, whether or not they have royal blood running through their veins? To grow through puberty being widely scrutinised, criticised and having gossip spread about them so that they learn to shut out the world, while being forced to carry out their public duties prematurely- I thought you said that they'll be protected from that!"

"They would." Robert snapped.

"Would they?" She challenged. "It's quite clear that people are going to interfere where the children live. They'd probably interfere in everything else, give them no room to grow, whereas the spare heir would- again- find themselves living a rather pointless life-"

"That's enough!" Robert barked. Husband and wife had a stare-down towards each other.

Aglaia looked down. Robert immediately felt bad, but she did as well, for taking this out on him.

But Liam and Eleanor had told her about their youth and she feared that, if her children felt confined and useless due to Royal Protocol, they would go down the same path, only more destructive.

Aglaia shrugged and turned to go. "You're right," she said quietly. "You can't change all the rules overnight. But I'm afraid that if they're limited to the confines of royal protocol and can't move or be anywhere beyond that... It might lead them to their own destruction, if they feel useless but unable to escape. Especially the younger ones. But the heir as well, if he or she can't be the king or queen they feel they should be for their people's sake... Robbie," she said and the sound of her voice threatened to break him in two. "You promised to shield us from the media scrutiny. That we would be safe from that. I understand if we have to give up freedom for protocol and security, but if you won't and I can't... Who's going to protect us from that? If we can't teach them how to be good human beings, how can we teach them to be good monarchs and royals?" She asked quietly, shaking her head and leaving.

Robert closed his eyes. This was not how he had hoped on celebrating their big news. He screwed up- big-time. She was right. He knew she was. He had to make amends, he knew he did.

* * *

Aglaia was silent as she observed her growing bump.

Robert silently came into the room. She sighed.

"Hey," he said quietly. She looked at him.

Robert squeezed his eyes shut. He could do this. He opened his eyes again and moved towards her. His hand went on top of hers, resting over her growing bump.

"I thought you might want to see this," he said quietly.

Aglaia blinked. "What do you mean?"

In reply, Robert produced a piece of rolled-up A3 paper. Unfurling it, Aglaia saw an architect's plans. Simple ones for...

"A cottage." She and Robert said simultaneously together. Aglaia looked at him. "What for?"

"Maybe... So when the time comes they could get started on building... And with a garden plot directly in front and around it, it wouldn't be hard to start farming vegetables now, would it?" Robert asked quietly, a small smile making its way across his face.

Aglaia sat there, stunned. "You mean this?"

"Of course I mean it," he insisted, taking both her hands. "Aglaia... I really love you. And I truly love our children. You were right. If you can teach them, then I'm certain they would be the very best anyone can be proud of, Greek and British."

Aglaia smiled slowly. "The media won't intrude here," Robert insisted. "I promise you... We might not be able to leave palace grounds, or the grounds of our official residences, but this cottage- and small sheds- will be on the grounds. I promise."

They both kissed. And Robert held her close for the whole night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: No-** _ **E!**_ **owns the** _ **Royals**_ **. Not me!**

* * *

 **To** **Superdani4Ever** **: Yeah, her mother is creepy but she has Aglaia's best interests at heart- she's determined to do anything and everything she can to keep her daughter alive. She doesn't trust Cyrus, Helena, Liam or even Eleanor, and she's afraid they might get rid of Aglaia (via murder) before she could conceive a child- or arrange for 'an accident' in order to make her miscarry. Multiple babies would discourage them. Or they might be stupid enough to Ruphy her or slip her other drugs (and she really suspects Eleanor and Liam would do something like this). Overall, people back in Aglaia's native country are** _ **NOT**_ **happy with her choice of husband- not because of him, but because of his crazy family.**

 **Aglaia is definitely a good influence on Eleanor (and Jasper) and Robert. She's a calming, positive influence. Now that Robbie's got someone of his own, he's not in such a mess anymore. She helps him deal with the emotional and mental turmoil he's going through instead of expecting him (like Helena would have) to keep it deep within him, bottling it up. She brings out the best in him and reminds them all why there is a monarchy in the first place- to serve their people. But she's not aware her husband's dark side has entirely gone… And Eleanor needed encouragement to go ahead and be proud of herself- and Jasper. And Robert does need someone! Cyrus and Veruca are a match made in heaven- except heaven isn't where malicious people are brought together! Maybe another story sometime about how they met, or flashbacks. I'm not sure. And I thought I'd make Sarah Alice a bridesmaid- it seems like a dream come true to her, surely!**

 **And I don't think Cyrus, Helena, Liam or even Eleanor are aware about what other royal families think of them and it isn't good. They knew, firstly, about Liam and Eleanor's wild, irresponsible partying during and prior to Season 1, about Simon's murder- by his own head of security- Helena's extra-marital affairs which put the legitimacy of her twins into question, the fact that Cyrus took advantage of that to be king and the faulty DNA test which never took place- and people were bribed to make it seem so. They neither like nor trust the Henstridges, and to have their daughter marry into that family is a nightmare. If I were Aglaia's parents I would stay awake all night just trying to figure out how they're trying to kill her.**

 **Also, it isn't uncommon for rulers- and consorts- to have regnal names or to change them. Aglaia isn't an English name, and unlike Aikaterina (Katherine) or Eirene (Irene), or Philippos (Philip) it doesn't have an Anglicised version. The old queen, Sofia of Spain, was Sophia of Greece and Denmark before she married King Juan Carlos and converted to Catholicism (she just changed the spelling!)**

* * *

 **Hateful to me as the Gates of Hades is that Man who Hides One Thing in his Heart and Speaks Another**

"I'm sorry, your majesties, but there's been a mistake," the doctor admitted, shame-faced.

The couple looked confused. "Mistake?" Robert raised an eyebrow. "In what way?"

"It appears we... ahem, miscounted." The doctor admitted. "It's not twins."

"It's not twins," Aglaia said warily. So they were going to have one baby after all? The doctor shook his head.

"No, it's triplets, ma'am."

Their jaws dropped and they froze. Yeah, real regal for the king and queen.

"Triplets?" They said simultaneously.

The doctor gestured. "See here." They leaned forwards and to their shock and incredulity, that's when they saw it. Their thunder-struck faces must have been comical.

"We're expecting triplets," Aglaia said slowly. Damn it, Mother.

Aglaia didn't know what to think. How could she- new into the job- be a queen, a wife and a mother to three at the same time? How in the world could she be the hands on mother the way she wanted to be? Beside her, Robert was thinking those same thoughts about himself.

But does it matter? They're my children and I'm going love them no matter what happens,

"I'm sure you will your majesties," the doctor stated, and Aglaia realised she said that aloud while her husband had said something similar. Crazy medicine.

Her crazy mother.

* * *

"Triplets," Robert said slowly. "We're expecting... Three children... At the same time."

Aglaia was no less stunned. Well, technically both she and Robert had come from broods of three each, but _at the same time?_ That was the stuff of legend.

What were the chances of triplets being born into a royal family? They must have been the first in centuries, if not millennia. If not, ever.

And all thanks to Queen Anastasia's near-magical medicine and Chinese cook.

Well, and Robert's incredibly active libido and the fact that she just went along with it all. Why did she go with everyone?

 _But does it matter_? A voice asked her. _They're my children. And I'm going to adore and protect them from everything if I could._

She let out a stunned breath. "I don't think any royal couple's ever had triplets before."

And not so soon after the wedding, Robert thought. He was certain that jokes were about to pop up soon enough.

"Well... Um..." For once Aglaia was at a loss for words. "I suppose... We'll have to look at three nurseries... And three nannies. But I still would like for us to be very involved in our children's lives."

Robert looked at her. "That goes without saying," he stated. "Aglaia," he began, taking her face gently in his hands. "I'm not going to back out of this... I know. I'll be a king, but I'm also your husband and a father to three miraculous children and I'm not going to be anything other than thankful for that." He said gently but clearly.

Aglaia smiled. "I know you would." She said softly. She had nothing other than love for him. And the way he just held her close, his hand resting protectively against her swelling bump.

* * *

"It's not twins, it's triplets," Robert muttered to the breakfast table.

Everyone's jaws dropped. Even those serving.

" _Triplets?"_ Eleanor asked, unable to believe her ears. Robert nodded in confirmation. "Triplets." He replied.

Aglaia let out a breath. "I don't think any of us were expecting that," she muttered.

"Yeah," Robert muttered. "Well, I'll have to be off soon." He kissed his wife, his dumbstruck mother and sister.

Aglaia sighed, and ate a piece of cheese. "I'm going to need... I'm going to need a lot of things," she admitted.

"Well, I'll be happy to help," Eleanor said, putting aside her own breakfast plate.

Aglaia smiled. "I'm really glad to have you by my side." She stated. "Oh, and my brothers are going to visit in two months' time."

Great, Helena thought. As if they needed to see more of those- admittedly _MEGA-HOT_ princes around to hate them.

"So," Eleanor announced. "We need to get you... Three nannies. And prepare for three nurseries."

Aglaia sighed. "Three nannies, three nurseries... Goodness knows how many diapers, three bottles and changing tables, three bassinets and cribs, three tiny wardrobes... All at one go." She shook her head. "I was not expecting that."

"If I may suggest your majesties, your royal highnesses," that was Rachel speaking. "There's only one place to get a nanny- or three- for the royal babies. Norland College in Bath trains the best nannies- if I may say so- in the world. Not only high-profile celebrities, but royals and aristocrats do tend to go to them. In addition to cooking excellent and healthy meals for their young charges, changing diapers, and tending to babies, the nannies also learn self-defence and martial arts in case anyone appears to... Kidnap or otherwise harm the infants. And what's more, they can also skid-pan-"

Aglaia shook her head. "I'm sorry-"

"They learn to drive very, very fast- like a race-car driver without endangering the children- in order to avoid pursuing paparazzi, assassins and more." Rachel finished.

Aglaia and the twins looked stunned. "Whoa- really?" Len asked.

"They have nannies that can... Skid-pan and kick the arses of whoever's trying to take their babies?" Liam asked incredulously.

"Yes, sir, I believe they do." Rachel said proudly.

"Well, um." Aglaia took a deep breath. "I'd like to interview them first," she stated.

"I'm afraid that isn't possible," Helena stated. "Goodness knows, you're going to need some rest and you still have some work to do. I'll handle it." She declared.

Aglaia opened her mouth, but unable to say anything, she closed it again.

"The nurseries... Three rooms would need to be redecorated, I heard that Giorgio Armani and Dior makes excellent baby products-" Helena went on. "And of course, the three babies once they've been born would need their own individual securities, not to mention-"

Aglaia didn't hear the rest. She didn't mean it, did she?

It was a freaking nightmare. What was she saying? Helena _did_ mean it.

It wasn't that Aglaia didn't want to encourage Helena to have a relationship with her grandchildren- she did- she would love it in fact- but Helena already had her chance to raise royal heirs and spares. And judging on how Liam and Eleanor turned out at first- as much as she had grown to love them- and based on Robert's- secret- frustrations...

Liam and Eleanor seemed to be thinking the same thing. After glancing at their sister-in-law's subtly horrified face and back at their mother who didn't notice a thing, Liam spoke up. "I think... Len should help Aglaia with the nurseries... And the nannies."

Aglaia shot her brother-in-law such a grateful look, he nearly reddened.

"Absolutely." Len nodded. "I agree."

Helena opened and closed her mouth. "But-" she spluttered. "She need to rest... And to be a queen."

"And she needs and wants to be a hands-on mother," Eleanor clarified. "And based on what we know of her, I know she'll make the very best." Aglaia nodded her thanks while Helena's dark blue eyes turned stormy in not just colour.

"I know dear, but I'll be here to help her out," Helena insisted.

"Yes, but I think the queen of _the United Kingdom_ will have all the help she needs." Eleanor confirmed. "Especially in regards to the next heir... And the spares."

"They won't just be spares, Eleanor." Aglaia said quietly. "These are my children... Whether or not they're royal princes or princesses. They're going to go out into the world and make it their own. They're going to go on their own path. They're not going to be confined and closeted to a royal existence all their lives. There's a much larger world out there and they're going to help build it for their generation."

Helena could not find anything to say. She just opened her mouth and closed it again.

Liam and Eleanor were both wide-eyed.

"After all," Aglaia stated. "Nobody is ever just _the spare._ We're all so much more than that." She smiled very warmly at the twins. "After all," she said. "Haven't Liam and Eleanor proven that they are already? Haven't I? I never received training to become anyone's consort my whole life- nobody was expecting that."

Liam absorbed this all in silence while the new queen excused herself from the breakfast table.

There was a long silence afterwards.

"Robbie's really lucky to have her," Len said, finally breaking it.

"We all are," Liam said softly. "Safe to say, I think these babies are going to be the happiest in all of Britain- if not the world."

"I really wish Dad could have met her," Leni said quietly. "If only he knew that the future of the monarchy and the family's in such good hands... He might have died happy."

Helena was unable to say anything.

* * *

"TRIPLETS?!" Cyrus howled. "WHICH BLOODY ROYAL COUPLE EVER HAD FREAKING TRIPLETS?!"

He was flaming mad. Beyond compare.

Cyrus threw a bottle of the finest brandy into the fireplace. And what a pity too, it was such good brandy. That only made his mood worse. Damned Greek princess and her very fertile eggs. Damn Robert and his impetuously speedy sperm!

This shoved Liam back to being fourth in line, and Eleanor fifth. After that, this made Cyrus sixth- sixth in line for the throne! Whoever got on the throne when they were sixth in line?!

"Nobody," Cyrus snapped. "Nobody... But me." A slow, evil smile slowly made his way across his face.

"That's right." He said grimly. "Only me. Only _I_ weaselled my way on the greatest throne in the world. Only _I_ managed to boot off the royal offspring. And only _I_ will get it _back."_

"Hmm, keep saying that darling, that's the spirit." Veruca said, bored. She examined her nails. "So?" She asked boldly.

Cyrus was silent for a while, before a truly evil smile spread again. He had an idea. "Veruca... My dear. I know we don't always see eye-to-eye-"

"I hated you," Veruca said bluntly. "I still hate you, though."

"And I'll always hate you," Cyrus gave what was supposed to be a winning smile. "And hate... Is such a passion, my dear." He went down on one knee before her.

"Hmm." Veruca examined her nails again.

Cyrus' head was whirling. After all, the royal wedding did boost morale and won people's hearts back. And there was nothing more the public loved than a good love story.

A love story which at times had no hope... Saw no completion. But all of a sudden... BAM! True love strikes. And conquers all.

 _That_ the public could believe in.

Cyrus' grin widened. "Veruca, my dear. Such a treasure like you should not be confined to the status of an ex-royal and a mother to two distant princesses. How would you like... To be a royal once more?" Veruca stared at him.

"And the wife of the king of England, and the mother to the next queen," Cyrus grinned. "That's what you're all about, isn't it? Being mother to the next monarch? Penelope, under your wise and benevolent gaze? And we all know, there's nothing that wins the hearts of the people more than a good love story. Us getting back together would mean..."

"Hope," Veruca said, swinging her slender legs off the couch. "A royal love story with a happy ending after all. So much better than a bitter, scandalous divorce my love." She gasped with joy. "You're a _genius,_ Cyrus- like I always knew. Love revitalises the people... And gives a happy ending. People would adore us... They'd cheer for me... Like they did to that Grecian goddess."

"That's right." Cyrus grinned. "And it would make Penelope and Maribel centre-stage along with us again... As a family."

Veruca smirked. "I had my doubts about you Cyrus, but it appears I was wrong- just this once. Very well, then. A royal wedding it is."

* * *

 _In Athens, the King's Estate…_

"We've been invited," the queen stated, her elegantly-long fingered, delicate hand pressing a fancy invitation onto the table.

"By whom?" Crown Prince Alexios enquired.

"The Henstridges." Was her only reply.

"By Aglaia or..." Prince Dimitri trailed off.

"No, by the uncle. Doubtless Aglaia will be there of course. The former king is getting married."

"Cyrus is getting married?" Dimitri was incredulous. "Who in their right mind would even consider marrying-"

"His ex-wife apparently," his mother muttered.

Dimitri sank back in his chair.

"If this was anyone other than Cyrus..." He began. He didn't need to finish his sentence.

Alexios and King Konstantinos exchanged grim looks.

"He's doing this... To gain popularity," Dimitri's eyes were wide as he absorbed all this in silence. His fingers drummed the side of his chair. "Now that our sister's pregnant... Accidents can still happen and Cyrus... Wants popularity. His ex-wife wants to be queen and mother to the next monarch. Oh, he thinks he's so smart." Dimitri gave a small laugh. "And they've already got two ready-made heirs... Aglaia's children are still unborn."

"But Cyrus' daughters are moronic idiots and numbskulls to say the least," Alexios muttered.

"But Aglaia's are currently unborn," their father stated, drinking his morning coffee. "Now it's only a matter of time... Before they manage to discredit Robert, his and Aglaia's marriage, or even the triplets. Putting their paternity in doubt, perhaps? Or framing them for something?"

"Or murder," Alexios said darkly. "Accidents do happen." He finished.

They were all silent as they contemplated this turn of events.

Alexios stood. "We're still going to England, but I think-" he looked at his parents. "You should still stay here."

The king's eyes were dark. "If anything happens," Alexios warned his father. "Be ready to answer our call."

The king nodded, his dark eyes grim.

* * *

Wedding invitations were handed out. While some were smart enough to see behind Cyrus' motives, clearly the excitement for a royal wedding was too much to resist.

This would not be a state wedding, unlike Cyrus' previous wedding to Veruca.

Of course Penelope and Maribel were no less dopey.

The wedding would take place in Windsor Castle- to give the guise of it being 'private and romantic', like they were secretly renewing their vows and doing it in the most romantic way possible- in secret, it seemed, with a smaller venue. But it was going to be very publicised, so Robert had no illusions.

"He hasn't given up," he stated. "He's still fighting to regain the throne."

"Like the Wars of the Roses," Aglaia said incredulously. She had had to learn English history. It wasn't hard. "Also known as the Cousins' War."

Robert laughed mockingly, bitterly. He downed his glass of Scotch. Going over to where Aglaia was currently lying, he placed a gentle hand on her belly.

Due to it being a multiple birth, the chances were that the delivery would be premature.

"I wonder what the bride will be wearing- a long white dress or..." Aglaia mused, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

Robert scoffed. "I think she's outgrown that. Besides they already did that, years ago."

"And how are your cousins taking it?" Aglaia asked. Based on what she saw of Penelope and Maribel they would probably still be confused.

Robert smirked. "Probably." He rubbed her belly gently and kissed it three times. "Three," he said warmly. "Somehow... No matter what happens, I don't think Cyrus could ever feel this way- or any king." He kissed his wife passionately.

"I've always been so protective of the ones I love," Robert grinned. "But now..." He sighed. "Well, if my uncle ever felt this way, I can't imagine. He never did call my cousins the two half-wits or the idiots of his loins. I can't imagine being so at odds with my children." Then his face darkened. "Although unfortunately, I can't see the future. I don't know if they'll hate me or not when they're grown." He remembered Liam soon after he returned.

Aglaia sighed. "Well, children aren't mere extensions of us. They're their own people. And we have to love and appreciate them for that no matter what. Yes, they'll make mistakes, but the most important thing is for anyone- grown or small- to learn from them. Mistakes aren't crimes- well, not usually. And the most important thing is to let them grow, allow them to be who they are, and above all else, encourage them and listen."

"You've looked after children before, haven't you?" Robert asked, his eyes curious.

"I've lived outside of Greece long enough," Aglaia remarked. "I've helped with children from all ages and all walks of life. And let me tell you this: no matter their title or money- or lack of it- children don't need a commander or a dictator- they need parents."

* * *

Veruca would wear a rich ivory-cream, knee-length dress with a fitted bodice and an off-white cloth belt. The belt had a flower made of silk in elegant patterns, some petals spiky and long, others soft and flattened. Near the hem of the skirt the dress was a scalloped leaf and circle pattern and it was hemmed with silk ribbon. The Duchess of Essex beamed.

She loved the cinched-in soft coat that had an ornate silk flower tucked into the side of the waist- and the appliqued disks subtly woven in with tiny flowers above them on the bottom half. She beamed as she preened in front of the mirror. No matter how long it took, and who it was, she would always love her wedding day!

"I still don't get it," Penelope said stupidly. Maribel checked the pickings from her ear. "Don't you and Dad, like, hate each other?"

"Nonsense, dear, whatever gave you that idea?" Veruca said as she adjusted her hat. It was a wide-brimmed hat with a halo effect of tulle around its brim- a halo for an angel. She sighed. The eggshell hat was adorned with French lace of the same ivory colour as the dress and had a feather and a similar flower to the bodice. She practically drooled, dreaming of her big day. She already had one with the long gown and the veil and tiara. Time to get something new and creative which people will be talking for months about! They've talked long enough about Robert's wedding to that Greek goddess/princess. Time to give them something _new_ to drool over!

"Didn't you say that you would rather kiss Mick Jagger crossbred with a pit-bull and Ozzy Osbourne rather than Dad again?" Penelope said as Maribel picked her fingernails.

"Well, things change," Veruca said cheerily. "Now off you go dears- it would not do for the bridesmaids to look anything other than their best- I've already had the outfits planned out for you- we'll be a family again!"

The sisters looked stupidly at each other before being pulled off.

She checked her reflection again. A posy or… She pouted- then beamed.

Of course she would have to go through extensive spa treatments and facials to compete with that... Greek goddess. She scowled, her face souring. No wonder Helena didn't have a smile anymore. It was hard to have a sweet face when compared to _that_ ocean-eyed girl.

* * *

Helena gave a terrible scowl.

"Can you believe it?!" She nearly broke down.

"My own children!" She moaned, her voice muffled by the cushion. My own children have turned against me!"

She moaned into the pillow, before reemerging. "Oh, it's because I was such a terrible mother- and they want to get back at me. In their hearts, they'll never truly forgive me." She sniffed.

Spencer sighed. "Your majesty if I may suggest... They just needed her."

" _Needed_ her?" Helena asked incredulously. "They've never needed anyone before." That wasn't entirely true. "Besides, we've always gotten along fine without her."

 _Yes, but how fine?_ A voice inside her head asked. _Your husband died unhappy, your lover left you because he felt jilted and betrayed, your brother-in-law whom you schemed with took the throne himself, your second son and only daughter despised the very sight of you and think you're a cold, heartless bitch and an ice queen, people kept dying and your mother and brother-in-law were responsible for that... And you just looked the other way. Scandals, heartbreak, death... What if she really is more than good for your family, your monarchy and your country?_

Spencer had a compassionate, though thankfully, not pitying look. "She's made your son very, very happy. I've rarely seen anyone so in love."

Helena was silent.

Spencer closed her eyes. "So that's it then?" He asked, despairingly. "You can be happy too."

"How?" Helena asked, bitterly. "Isn't it a bit too late for that?"

Spencer gave her a long look. "It's never too late for anything."

* * *

"Wait... So you _knew?"_ Aglaia asked incredulously. "You _knew_ I would be having triplets?"

She was on skype with her mother.

"Well, actually dear," her mother began. "It was highly likely- as I said- that you would be having a multiple pregnancy. Twins were the least of it." Aglaia's jaw dropped.

"Well, actually I didn't know just how many you would be having, considering that it stimulates ovulation and such. You could have had triplets or quadruplets or even septuplets if that's what you're asking." Aglaia gaped.

"So I could have had SEPTUPLETS? As in SEVEN children _at the same time?!"_ Aglaia was thunderstruck. She covered her face with her hands. Huh, with her luck she could have been the next 'octomom'! "What were you _thinking?"_ She moaned.

Her mother blinked. "I would have thought you'd be happy," she remarked. "You always loved children."

"But... How in the world am I supposed to be a queen, a wife _and_ a mother to three children of the same age, at the same time?!" Aglaia snapped.

Anastasia sighed. "That will be a problem, but you've always managed to mother multiple children... Remember those orphanages? And that was in the middle of nowhere, in the Middle East! A warzone in fact! This time you will be in a _palace,_ Aglaia. And you will have help!"

Help coming from Greece. Anastasia sure as hell didn't trust any of the Henstridges apart from Robert (and even then he could be mistaken about his own family's motives) with her most irreplaceable, priceless, precious and _darling_ daughter. And she sure as hell wouldn't trust them with her own grandchildren! The very idea! Helena- if she didn't try to get rid of them, or neglect them in any way, would allow them to turn out like Liam and Eleanor did!

And Anastasia would rather arrange for her assassination than suffer that! The good thing about her daughter's marriage was that at least people could see how right they had brought their daughter up, in comparison to the mess Helena had created in her twins. They were immensely proud of her. But Anastasia and Konstantinos and their sons and citizens would never stop fearing for her life.

* * *

"Chandeliers up!" An overseer announced.

Liam watched it all. He drank beer.

"Hey," Aglaia was months into her pregnancy now. And she looked more beautiful than ever. "Hey," Liam responded.

Aglaia sighed. "So… I didn't peg Cyrus as the remarrying type," she admitted.

Liam snorted. "That's 'cause he isn't." He stated, taking another swig. "I didn't think his ex-wife wanted to get back with him either."

 _That's because Robert thinks there's another motive the two of them have apart from love,_ Aglaia thought. But she wasn't about to say those thoughts aloud for fear of that anyone else would hear her. Least of all anyone in connection to her family. If they so much as got confirmation that her new family were still fighting amongst themselves...

"So when are the babies due?" Liam interrupted her thoughts.

"Well, for multiple pregnancies, it's highly likely that they would be premature." Aglaia admitted. She looked at her swollen bump.

"Are you nervous?" Liam asked gently. Aglaia looked up and nodded. "Yes," she admitted.

"Don't be," Liam said. "You were born to be a great at everything you did- and motherhood is no exception." He stated.

Aglaia looked at him in surprise, truly touched by this. "Thank you, Liam." She gave him a slow, heartbreaking smile. It never failed to take his breath away. It was more beautiful, infinitely, than anything he had ever seen. "Will you be godfather?" She asked all of a sudden.

Liam looked astounded. _"Me?!"_

Aglaia nodded.

Liam was stunned. "Why?"

"Because," Aglaia said softly. "No matter what you did in your youth, with you around, I don't think any of my children will be unfortunate enough to go astray. They're immensely lucky to have you as their uncle, just as Robert's unbelievably lucky to have you as his brother. And I'm certain he'll be eager for you to be one of the godfathers, Liam- the one closest to home, the one they'll always turn to when Dad was too hard on them, or maybe when they want to ask for advice on girls and they only need advice from the best." She grinned.

Liam laughed. His eyes shone. "Thank you," he said quietly. "You have no idea how much that means to me."

"You're the most important prince right now, and you'll always be the most important prince in their lives, in Britain," Aglaia said softly. "Never underestimate yourself Liam. King or not, you're meant for big things. You're meant to shine. You have and you will." She kissed him on the cheek. Liam froze and felt a sharp warmth flood through him where she had kissed him. It rushed through his veins and blood like a fever, scorching everything towards him. Heat flooded through his entire body and his skin felt warm. His heart stopped then started accelerating harder than ever.

 _Is this what Robert feels,_ Liam wondered. _When he's next to her?_

Aglaia gave him a small smile and then went on her way.

* * *

"Alexios," Aglaia breathed, throwing her arms out to her eldest brother- longing to run and embrace them (alas, she was now a queen- and pregnant!). "Dimitri!"

The brothers both smiled extremely warmly and gazed in amazement at her growing bump.

"Little sister," Alexios breathed. "Wow, the time really flies. I can remember when we were still expecting you!"

Aglaia laughed softly. "How long are you staying?"

"Long enough," Alexios answered hastily. "Where's the king?"

"He's in his office, he'll be with us soon," Aglaia assured him. "So," she guided her brothers and they each took an arm. "Tell me- how are things in Greece?"

"What do you mean?" Dimitri asked curiously. "How's the country? How're the people?" Aglaia could barely breathe in her eagerness. "How's the state of the country- how's everyone? How are Mother and Father really doing?"

Alexios and Dimitri exchanged warm smiles. Their little sister was just as eager and loving of her native country and her people. That was one of the many things people loved so much about her. She had never grown distant from their parents or them. Never had a teenage rebellion.

"Mother and Father are well," Dimitri assured her gently. "And they're over the moon over the impending arrivals."

Aglaia shone so much, her brothers hearts warmed. Months they had been secretly terrified for their sister and now to see her so well, so _happy_ and expecting her children... It was worth far more than all the Crown Jewels in the world.

Alexios' face had a genuinely wide smile- a rare sight. Dimitri's smile was not masking anything- for once. And this guy always had a hidden agenda. "So... Why don't you show us your nursery plans- if you have some. And are you going to have nannies?"

* * *

"So you're... Majorie..." Eleanor tested that name very carefully.

"Or Marge, Ma'am," the nanny-in-waiting replied.

Eleanor nodded. "And you're... Stacy." The blonde nanny-in-waiting, sitting in the middle nodded. "And Pamela." She looked at the nanny on the right. "Pam." She clarified.

"Right- that." Eleanor stated. Jasper watched warily from behind. "So you've all been trained at Norland College in Bath... Where nannies go."

"That's right, ma'am. Dating back to the Victorian era," Nanny Pam answered proudly. Jasper watched them warily. Something about those sugary sweet features, brown dresses and bowler hats with gloves and buns... Really freaked him out.

There was nobody like this. Nobody. No human being alive could act the way these nannies did. He shoved back his uneasiness.

"And you learnt..." Eleanor trailed off.

"Well, we learnt to sew, cook and bake," Nanny Stacy replied. "We can make cushions and baby clothes!" Nanny Pam said excitedly. "To polish shoes, to make baby formula and soft foods like puree when teething comes, baby hygiene-" Nanny Stacy continued as if she didn't hear her.

"From the general to the specific," Nanny Marge cut in.

"And ironing baby clothes, setting up a pram," Nanny Stacy ticked those off on her immaculately gloved fingers. "Wash up until not a single stain is left-"

"Play with the babies and help them in early reading and bedtime if necessary," Nanny Pam out in.

"Diapers and keeping babies looking immaculate," Nanny Stacy went on. Eleanor nodded, trying to absorb all this. "Not to mention martial arts like kick-boxing and skid-pan."

"Nannies do kick-boxing?" Jasper asked in disbelief. Next to him James Hill raised his eyebrows. Huh, who knew?

"Norland nannies do," Stacy nodded. "We usually cater to high-profile clients and their babies, so when kidnappers and assassins come... Of course, there'll be security, but we can- as a last and quite unexpected resort- back them off. And we know how to avoid paparazzi and more assassins and kidnappers because we learn high-speed driving- or skid-pan."

They stared at them.

"I'm a black-belt at Taekwondo," Nanny Marge offered. "I'm one at Judo." Nanny Pam put in. "And I can do mean-as black-belt Karate." Stacy smiled sweetly.

Jasper and James stared at them a little freaked out.

"Would you like to see what we can do?" Nanny Stacy said with a honeyed smile.

Jasper and James sat a little taken aback while Eleanor nodded. "Yup, that sounds great." She said.

Nanny Stacy presented them with a bread and butter pudding cooked at record time and it tasted like the best Eleanor had never had before (always the fancy stuff, being a princess) and bottled formula and puree. Nanny Pam proudly presented the baby cushions and blankets she had embroidered herself, while Nanny Marge quickly set up a pram, changed and cleaned a wax-doll baby and the three of them rotated jobs.

Next they went to the security guards' own spaces and in the gym they demonstrated How to Beat Jasper and James Up One-O-One.

James nearly got the wind knocked out of them by the kickboxing nannies with boxing gloves and headgear. Nanny Stacey yelled, "Hi-yah!" And tackled Jasper to the ground, her knee on the side of his face, while he grunted and groaned, eyes bugging trying to get free. Nanny Pam nearly pounded the living daylights out of him. And Nanny Marge demonstrated how to defeat an enemy underwater (poor Jasper again) and give a baby CPR.

To top it off, they demonstrated their high-speed driving skills like they were auditioning for Formula One, with Jasper in the front seat, holding on tight and James and Eleanor at the back, the former wide-eyed.

At the end they concluded by singing Mary Poppins and Nursery rhymes designed to please and delight the babies.

Needless to say the two men were very glad to get rid of the three of them. But Eleanor was impressed and immediately hired them.

* * *

Cyrus' wedding went out in full swing.

The bride deciding on a posy walked down the aisle, beaming. Her two daughters with their idiotic faces were dressed in virginal white. Their mother had managed to stuff them into identical dresses that made them look sweet, innocent _and_ appealing. That was no small feat on its own.

The two of them joined together, with the queen's brothers cynically not believing a single vow any of them took- anymore than Robert did.

"And I now pronounce you, husband and wife." The archbishop announced. Cyrus beamed and so did Veruca. They went out in a flurry to join the party after signing the register.

Aglaia, heavily pregnant, took Robert's hand, her brothers, security guards and Len surrounding her protectively with Liam not far off. Robert's hand was supporting her back. Liam saw it and looked down quickly.

The party went out in full swing, and the glasses glittered in a pyramid in preparation for the pink and golden champagne. The wedding cake was a lemon cake with spun-sugar icing and strawberries. It wasn't as large as the one Robert and Aglaia had, and no crown on top, but the wedding toppers that Aglaia secretly despised.

Cyrus and Veruca gave cheesy grins as they cut the cake and poured champagne. The flowers- magnolia, peonies, orange blossoms, white roses, orchids and lilies were there and the scent was _strong._ Aglaia tried to stick closest to the night air. Was Cyrus and Veruca trying to make her sick, even miscarry? She didn't know. She did not dare touch the food.

Already she felt ill. She _hated_ morning sickness. Especially as it wasn't just in the mornings. Cravings she barely tolerated, but morning sickness? She needed water, but she didn't dare take anything right now.

Suddenly, a sharp pain burst at her belly. She stood and dashed off as discreetly as she could.

In a side room, she clutched her belly, preparing herself for the worst. But instead of the heaving or something far, far worse, she felt... She felt...

She gasped.

Jasper saw and immediately dashed off to warn the king.

Quickly, Robert was at her side. "Darling," he said urgently. "What is it? How much pain are you in? Where is it?" He was holding his breath.

To his surprise, Aglaia smiled. "It's fine." She said. She pressed his hand to her belly. Robert paused in confusion, and then eyes wide, he looked back at Aglaia.

Aglaia's face was glowing. "They're moving," she breathed. "All three of them."

Robert looked astounded- like the rug had been pulled from under his feet. "We have... They're..." He looked thunderstruck. "They're our children," he breathed. "They're... They're alive. We're... We're actually going to have…" He laughed in disbelief.

Aglaia smiled. Robert's eyes misted and he leaned to kiss her.

Nearby Helena watched... And she drank champagne.

* * *

"I know Robert certainly thinks there are enemies from within." Aglaia stated. "But I still don't believe in going overboard with this thing."

"You don't need me to tell your enemies," Alexios said. "Your husband's uncle, his remarried wife now, and his younger brother. Possibly the mother."

Aglaia sighed, exasperated. "Aglaia," Dimitri leaned forwards, serious. "This family is not like ours," he reminded her sternly. "But _Liam?"_ She demanded. "He's Robert's brother."

"You didn't see him just before his brother's first balcony appearance since he disappeared," Dimitri insisted. "He's right," Alexios said grimly. "Liam lost it just before they appeared in the throne room. Cyrus applauded and mocked them. Helena looked murderous and Robert barely restrained her. I had the feeling they barely kept it together. But on the first day his brother was due to make a public appearance..."

"And on the balcony itself, the footage showed, Liam didn't look too happy when Robert hugged him," Dimitri put in. He leaned forwards. "Aglaia," he stated. "This family... Fights amongst each other for a throne."

And _their_ family had mostly been wiped out during the civil war because of their royal blood.

Aglaia sighed and closed her eyes. She couldn't deny that fact.

Alexios sighed and stood. "You should go to sleep." He reminded her. "You're pregnant. The four of you need your rest." He and Dimitri kissed her goodnight before they left.

They didn't want to stay in the royal palace. So when Dimitri and Alexios got into their car...

The people inside Windsor Castle awoke when the explosion resounded.

Robert was the first to fly awake, his hands around Aglaia, tightly, protectively. Helena bolted wide-eyed, with Spencer blinking disorientated beside her.

"Mopsy!" Maribel woke up, clutching her blanket, with Penelope whose lip trembled from beside her.

"What was that?!" Eleanor gasped, Jasper right next to her, eyes alert.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: No-** _ **E!**_ **owns the** _ **Royals**_ **. I don't own them.**

 **To** **Superdani4Ever** **: Good thing they've got the nannies- Mary Poppins and Nanny McPhee- haha! As a matter of fact there** _ **is**_ **really a Norland Nanny College where they teach you traditional and very specific skills to care for children; they work for high-profile celebrities and royals- Prince George and Princess Charlotte's nanny graduated from there. And yes, they do self-defence and kick-boxing and learn how to drive at top-speed to avoid paparazzi and criminals.**

 **I think Helena really is jealous of Aglaia- not just because she's got the public- and the family's love and support more than Helena ever did- even in her good days, but unlike Simon and Helena's marriage- where Simon admittedly loved his late girlfriend more than Helena and she had affairs- Robert and Aglaia's marriage is very happy, very deep and loving. Aglaia represents all that Helena once hoped to have and all she lost or never had. To learn something from her would be the best thing, but even so, that's hard to get over. She's a representation to Helena, of what could/might have been once. And she got to raise her kids right.**

 **Oh, the bombshell's going to drop pretty soon- I'm pretty sure Robert knows, he's not stupid and Aglaia's warned him about her family's reluctance. Apart from episode 1, I think when a foreign monarch visited, I believe the other royals are mostly avoiding the Henstridges- too much scandal and danger to risk. The Greeks are just appalled because they know, even though Robert is a great guy, the family she's marrying into is** _ **not**_ **a good one- she's not just the king's daughter, she's a princess** _ **and**_ **one of them.**

 **Cyrus and Veruca are either diabolically lucky at times or really evil and scheming.**

 **Yes, she wills spend more time with Eleanor. And yes, it would have been much, much better if she had met Robert while he was still a prince, instead of Poor Kathryn. Her mother is every bit a schemer as Helena- if not more so- but the difference is, she actually believes in duty and worships her family more than anything.**

 **As for the brothers and the couple- Well, things are going to get that much complicated, I'm afraid I'll have to warn you!**

* * *

 **Hell is Empty and All the Devils are Here**

"What's going on? What's happened?" That was Robert.

"There's been an explosion sir- near the hotel where the Greek Princes were staying." James explained.

"WHAT?!" That was Liam and Robert. Helena stood, shell-shocked (no pun intended at such a terrible time) at the doorway with a horrified Eleanor.

"We have police and security guards scouring the area." James explained. "Make sure you find them- please." Robert nearly begged him. James nodded and promptly left.

Just then someone came running in. "Sirs!" Robert turned. It was another security guard. "The princes' car… They were bombed."

Robert inhaled sharply. _Shit._ This was _not_ good. "Have they been found?" The guard shook his head. Shit.

"What's happened?" To everyone's horror, Aglaia stood in the doorway. "What's happened to them- Robert-" he instantly was at his wife's side supporting her.

"Go-please!" Robert nearly snapped, while everyone, except for the Henstridges hastily cleared the room. "Inform the Greek embassy!" He called out to them as they left. They nodded.

* * *

Anastasia burst into sobs when she enveloped her daughter- her only remaining child- in her arms. Aglaia was no better.

The two of them- mother and daughter alike- wept in the privacy of the room. This was a nightmare. After a while, Anastasia composed herself. It would not do for the enemy to see her weak.

They would pay for this; the Henstridges would pay.

She cleared her throat and forced a smile for her son-in-law. "Robert," she asked quietly. "Will you two… Stay with each other for a while?"

"Mother?" Aglaia looked up at her. "Where are you going?"

"Of course," Robert said hastily, compassion in his eyes. He couldn't possibly imagine what she was going through. "Your majesty."

Anastasia turned and left.

She spotted Helena. "YOU!" She snarled. "YOU- YOU DID THIS, DIDN'T YOU? WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

Helena stood, eyes wide, taken aback. "Me?! _I_ did this? What on earth made you say _that?!"_

Anastasia laughed harshly. In full view of Liam, Eleanor, Jasper and a few others, she reached forwards and slapped Helena on the face.

She no longer cared if it provoked an international diplomatic crisis.

Helena stood aghast, clutching her cheek. "Ma'am, please!" James Hill tried to reason.

"You didn't think I didn't know," Anastasia spat venomously. "You didn't think no one would ever _guess_ \- would ever find out?!" She snarled. "All those things you did and were capable of? But _my_ sons?! Never would I have dreamt- as appalling as you had been as one- that a mother could actually murder another mother's _sons!"_

Helena was even more aghast than normal. "What on earth- why in the _world_ would you think I killed them?"

"You don't think anyone knows?" Anastasia hissed. "The whole world knows! Ask yourself when was the last time you were ever invited to a Nobel Peace Prize- or whether or not anyone would have come to the wedding if _we_ had not invited them to our daughter's nuptials! Ask yourself when was the last time anyone paid a cordial visit to _your_ palace or invited you to go somewhere overseas! To another palace, royal or presidential. Do you think the whole world doesn't know?" Anastasia went on, desiring nothing more than to inflict pain on the woman and the family she felt not only destroyed themselves and their country but her own.

"Your twins' wild life could easily be overlooked, but the fact that your _former_ head of security killed your husband based on a grudge held by his late wife is another thing!" Anastasia had no remorse, no malice was barred on this woman. "Because _you_ could have saved her! And because Dominique Stewart- your husband's love of his life- died in an 'accident' not long after which _you_ were engaged to Simon!"

Helena gaped and the twins froze.

"And what was the maid's name?" Anastasia asked mockingly. She wanted this woman- and her brats- to squirm. Anyone who ever did their dirty work as well. They killed her children- her _own_ babies! "Was it Prudence- no, that was the one your brother-in-law blackmailed into having sex with him and impregnated, thereby marrying her- or trying to, before you stepped in and interfered with the legal proceedings!" Eleanor and Liam watched in horror as the Greek queen went on. "No, _Violet._ Violet whom you had killed-"

"That wasn't her," Liam defended his mother. "And I suppose it was Cyrus who dealt with Alistair Lacey?" Anastasia drawled. "You're a group of murderers and spoilt brats who grew fat, soft and greedy on glory and status! Of course you killed my sons! Why? Because you wanted her out of the way too- my daughter!" She howled.

Helena's- and everyone's eyes- were massive. "You think I would kill my sons' wife?" Helena dared, regaining her nerve. "The mother of _his_ children? _My_ grandchildren?"

"I don't know what to think!" Anastasia snarled. "Only that with my sons removed from the Greek line of Succession, my daughter- the youngest of my brood- the _only_ child I have left- is now first in line in our succession. And she can't be queen consort of Britain _and_ queen regnant of the Hellenes at the same time!"

Helena stared at her in horror. "What do you mean?"

Anastasia drew back. "Consult your Privy Council." She said. "Members of our Ministerial Council are already preparing to speak to them and to the king about this matter. Either way, I didn't think my daughter is finished with her grief just yet."

* * *

The Greek Ministerial Council and the British Privy Council sat opposite one another. The king of Britain sat with them. The king of Greece was conspicuously absent- with his wife and daughter.

Helena, Liam and Eleanor watched warily, wondering what this was all about.

The leading Greek minister took a deep breath. "Your majesties, your royal highnesses… I assume you have already guessed that this is about the line of succession."

"Both lines of succession." A Privy Council member cut in.

The Greek minister nodded. "Correct." He took a deep breath. He did not meet the royals' eyes. "The laws are very clear. Perhaps if we have lived in an earlier century…" He sighed and shut his eyes. "Enough grief has been dealt with. Soon the world media will find out exactly what happened to the princes. Their bodies have not yet been recovered. But the blast was undisputedly strong. As of this moment, the heiress presumptive to the Greek throne is Her Majesty Queen Aglaia."

Robert did not take his eyes off him. "And?"

"And that a future regnant queen of Greece or any other country cannot have her duties divided- she cannot be queen consort and answer to another monarch, of Britain or anywhere else in the globe." The Privy Councilman stated. The ministers, Robert suddenly realised, none of them would meet his eyes.

"And so, it is with our deepest pain to inform you…" The Greek minister hesitated. "That we cannot recognise your majesties' marriage if it interferes with both lines of duty." He did not want to say it.

Robert froze.

"As your majesties must know, the Greek royal family was one of the most violently targeted during the most recent civil war," the minister continued, hesitating. "Most of the family, including His Majesty King Konstantinos' brothers, sisters and cousins, were wiped out. Their Majesties thankfully provided the line of succession with three offspring, though in recent events… Two of them have died. This leaves only one, unless we count the other royal houses who have married into the Hellenic royal line but do not carry the name, and are only distantly related." He hesitated.

"And as Queen Aglaia cannot become the future queen of Greece and continue to be the queen consort of Britain, and that there are no other heirs…" The minister trailed off.

It hit Robert like an ice-and-frost-coated dagger stabbing deep within his heart, repeatedly, again and again. A bottomless pit of despair and horror seemed to swallow him up.

"So what are you saying, minister?" He found himself asking, without really comprehending that he was saying anything.

All the ministers in the room winced. "That it is…" "With our enormous regret," a British Privy Council member muttered. "With our great pain and reluctance that we inform you that your majesties' marriage must be legally terminated."

 _WHAT?!_ More horror and shock with life-threatening pain seemed to overwhelm the frozen Robert.

"And that… Considering the line of succession here in Britain is not as critical… The unborn children of your majesties must be added to the Greek line of succession as Crown Prince Alexios and Prince Dimitri- God rest their souls- have not managed to marry and produce legitimate offspring. They must be brought to Athens." The minister winced. "And recognised as the next heirs to the throne, as per tradition."

Horror, shock, agony, anguish… All those and more that could not be described were inside of Robert. The turmoil, the horror and shock, the fear… Of going back to what it was _before_ Aglaia…

"So you just don't want to say it then?" Robert said, still not processing what he was saying, except that he wanted anything- anything to end what he was feeling right now. "That you want us to divorce?"

"That… Is not what we wish, your majesty," the British minister mumbled. "But the plain truth is that the British line of succession already has Prince Liam and Princess Eleanor, and the former king Cyrus along with the Princesses Penelope and Maribel, but the Greeks…" He trailed off.

"You expect me to not only to lose and put aside my _wife_ but my _children_ as well, before they are even born?" Robert's eyes flashed with… Pain? Grief? Rage? Nobody knew, but it was terrible and painful to behold.

"If I may, the divorce is able to wait until _after_ the children are born," the Greek minister added hastily- as if that made anything any better. "That way they would be considered born legitimate and in wedlock, but they and their mother must leave for Athens right after that. Or have the babies there, if that is to be preferred."

Liam and Eleanor watched in horror along with Helena as this transpired. No, surely they couldn't mean, there had to be a mistake…

But the faces of every minister there were deadly serious. Grim, saddened, but serious.

 _Oh shit, this isn't a joke…_

And if it was, it wouldn't be a very funny one.

Robert _certainly_ didn't think so.

* * *

Aglaia had sunk into a depressive state, sobbing and breaking her own heart more and more.

Nobody was stupid enough to approach her yet. Even her mother and father couldn't. Heavily pregnant with the children due prematurely, Aglaia didn't stand much chance to restrain her own grief.

Only Eleanor managed to walk inside the room. "Aglaia?" She asked quietly.

Aglaia turned. Even weeping, heartbroken and pregnant she was beautiful. Beyond lovely. Eleanor could see why Robert would rather tear everything apart rather than lose her. Why he would have died to possess this woman.

Aglaia took a shaky breath. "They're gone." She managed to mumble. "My brothers…" Eleanor said nothing but merely dropped to her knees beside her and held her close.

* * *

Aglaia broke down again. "I'm not worthy to be anyone's queen- consort or regnant." She mumbled. "Not in this state." "Sshhh," Eleanor tried to soothe her. "And now… We're going to have to divorce- isn't it? Unless one of the triplets stays here or the four of us go in which case my children will never know their father."

"That's not going to happen," Eleanor tried to reassure her. "That's not going to happen." But there was nothing she could say or do. Eleanor had already lost Robert once. But even this pain Aglaia went through didn't come close to comprehension. Two brothers and a divorce she didn't want from a husband she loved, while pregnant… This would not be beyond many people's nightmares.

And there was no way to break it.

"Surely they don't need them to divorce," Liam tried to stay upbeat and optimistic. "They just… Need an heir and a spare. Which they could provide them with."

"Mum already suggested that," Eleanor admitted. "But they need quite a few heirs and spares. And they have to be brought up Greek. Not British. Besides, I've looked into the background of Aglaia's family. Most of them were…" She winced. "Butchered."

"Why?" Liam spun around towards her. "Royal blood." Eleanor stated. "Apparently there was a coup… Sometime during the elections just when the army, navy and air force were at war somewhere… The only ones left to protect the country were the reserve army and they were the ones who did the coup. The king then- Aglaia's granduncle- tried to stop them, so they killed him, his wife, his children and grandchildren and anyone remotely connected to the Greek royal family."

"And now they've taken two of them again." Liam said quietly.

"And only our sister-in-law's left and her children and they're already in the British line of succession, so…" Eleanor trailed off.

Liam shook his head in disgust. "But does it mean they have to break up?" He demanded.

Eleanor sighed. "We don't know for sure. But Robbie was a real mess before she came along- we all were. And now, I don't want to go back…"

The twins left it off in silence.

* * *

Robert saw Aglaia on the floor. Trying to keep it together. That was when he broke.

In a single instant he went over to where she was, swept her in his arms and held her tightly. He could feel the babies kicking inside of her. Three children- totally unaware of the dangers they would face and that they would be living in a broken family where their lives were at risk.

He was never going to let her go- _never_. Not anyone of them. If that meant handing over the crown to Cyrus, or Liam, then _damn it_ that was exactly what he would do! He would rather give up the crown and his kingdom than give up his wife, the life they had together and their children.

For once, he knew why his father felt that way.

"This won't happen," he swore. "I swear I will look after you- all of you. And we'll bring the bastards who did this to justice, I promise you, my love. Nothing bad will happen anymore."

His dark blue eyes darkened further and whoever did this had no idea of the storm that was about to come.

* * *

"You call this a honeymoon suite?" Cyrus whined.

"Well, my dear, it wasn't as if you booked anything better," Veruca remarked breezily. "What with your already vigorous expectations… It appears you've gotten used to the soft life being a king. You didn't battle hard enough to keep it."

Cyrus scowled, but Veruca breezed past him, not even bothering to wait for him to sweep her off her feet- literally- and carry her over the threshold. They had no illusions. This marriage- for the second time around- would not be for love. No matter what they made the media think. Let them all think this was a happily ever after.

Cyrus' face soured. Great. He was stuck with this old cow again. And she called _him_ cold and heartless.

"I'll be in constant contact with Penelope and Maribel," Veruca said, matter-of-factly, in her breezy voice. "They're going to work on impressing everybody. Sometimes people can surprise others. Liam certainly did-"

"Before he proved himself an emotional clod," Cyrus muttered. "And Penelope and Maribel can as well." Veruca finished. She turned towards Cyrus.

"As far as the world is concerned, you didn't _want_ to be king- and you gladly relinquished that title to Robert," Veruca informed him. "People don't like or trust anyone who wants to be king- and who can blame them?" She asked coolly. "You'll never get anywhere, least of all the throne back, if you make no illusions about wanting it. As far as anyone knows, you want and prefer a simple life and a quiet one. Wait until you're stable on the throne."

"Oh?" Cyrus said sourly. "What about Robert's unborn babies and his breathtakingly beautiful wife? She's carrying triplets, you know."

That was when Veruca gave him a glistening-cold smile. "I take it you don't watch the news on the plane."

Cyrus looked confused for a moment, until she handed him the newspapers.

His eyes bugged. The glaring headline:

GREEK PRINCES DEAD. QUEEN AGLAIA NEXT IN LINE.

"So now she's the queen of England and she's going to be the queen of Greece?" He whined.

"Wait for it," Veruca advised him. She handed him more tabloids.

SPECULATIONS RAMPANT: BRITISH KING AND QUEEN TO DIVORCE RELUCTANTLY.

Eyes wide, Cyrus scanned the papers. Aglaia's brothers- the two sinister and brutally handsome princes Alexios and Dimitri had died without leaving any legitimate issue. That placed their younger sister- Aglaia- as first-in-line, heiress presumptive. But both countries' governments couldn't stand the idea of sharing a queen, so Aglaia and Robert would have to divorce while it was speculated that their unborn triplets would be raised as next-in-line to the Greek throne- not the British.

Cyrus gasped comically. "You mean this?" He asked incredulously. "Is it really true?"

"Why don't we ask the girls?" Veruca said with an enticingly dark smile.

* * *

"Oh, um… Yeah. Aglaia's brothers are dead." Penelope said dopily.

"Alright, so…" Their mother pressed.

"And um… There is talk that Robert might divorce… Apparently, they don't want to divorce."

"I don't want them to divorce, Mummy," Maribel whined. "I rather liked the wedding."

"Well, they're not divorcing right away, so we've still got a while until she stops being queen."

"Meaning…" Veruca pressed.

"Wait, why aren't they divorcing right away?" Cyrus asked, crossly, leaning into the skype.

"Oh, um…" Penelope and Maribel looked stupidly at each other. "I dunno," Penelope admitted. "I think it's because…"

"They want the children to be legitimate in order for them to inherit the Greek throne," Veruca deduced. "So… No triplets… And all there is to do is… Eleanor and Liam?"

"Huh?" Both sisters asked, simultaneously.

"Nothing dears. Have a good night, don't do too much LSD. And don't take Roophyllin. Heavens knows how terrible and disgraceful it will be if you turned up pregnant." Veruca trilled. "Before marrying! Toodles!"

"Um… Cheers Mum." The screen went black.

"Well," Veruca announced cheerily. "You, my dear, have another diabolical stroke of good luck."

Cyrus smirked before it was wiped off his face. "But what about Liam?" He demanded. "And Eleanor. What are we supposed to do about _them?"_

Veruca sighed. "Well… No chance of a DNA paternity scandal. Britain will be _sooo_ heartbroken at the king and queen's tragic ending as opposed to a happy one. Forbidden love. We'll just have to cut our honeymoon short and return to the palace to offer our comfort… Not so soon while they're conducting investigations and yet not too long as for them to suspect us."

Cyrus sighed. "Fine." He ground out.

* * *

Now that the heir to the throne and the king and queen were in Britain, the Greek Armed Forces were making their presence around the heavily pregnant Aglaia who was mostly shut up in her room with few to see her, except for Robert.

They had barred Liam and Eleanor from entry along with most of the British security guards- under whose orders it was no question- and Aglaia had sunk into a deep depression.

Robert was with her- Konstantinos and Anastasia believed he was probably the one Henstridge who would do anything to keep her safe and not harm her and her unborn children. But of course, there was nothing Robert could do, was there?

The world media had learned about it. Horror, shock and sympathy flooded to both royal families- and Aglaia who would soon be forcibly parted from her husband.

And in the meantime, the other royals shook their heads and silently cursed. The Henstridge rot was spreading everywhere it seemed, now that poor Aglaia had the misfortune to fall in love with and marry one of them, even though he was the best of them. Those poor Greek royals. They had no doubt Cyrus or Helena were to blame- they were the prime suspects.

And maybe even Liam as an accomplice. Or Eleanor.

The only Henstridge apart from Simon who had his name clean was Robert.

Robert who was currently holding onto his grieving, pregnant wife and trying to put off the inevitable.

And to make things worse…

"Create two more perimeters around the Crown Princess," Captain Leonidas Dimitriou called out. Aglaia- though still queen of Britain and only heiress presumptive, was called that by him. "One closer to her, and one much, much larger. I want snipers on every rooftop, vehicles ready to go, easy, planned access to the private jets in the airports, where they'll be escorted by the military jets-"

"Do we have clearance for that, sir?"

Leonidas smirked. "I think that the British government has given us clearance enough to take their queen and make her ours."

"Who is this guy?" Jasper grumbled.

"Leonidas Dimitriou- navy, air force and now army- he's the queen's ex-boyfriend." Someone hissed.

Jasper blinked. Boy, that was why he seemed so happy she was coming home.

* * *

"They what?" Robert demanded later on.

"It was under the orders of Captain Dimitriou, easy and quick access to the airports." Robert scowled horrendously. "And fighter jets?"

"He was given all the permission he needed, sir." Robert's face was like thunder. "Including to take my wife away?" He retorted. "I don't think so." He stood, and prepared to walk off before he froze. "What did you say his first name was again?"

"Leonidas. Leonidas Dimitriou, sir." Rachel replied.

Robert stood very still. "And he's a captain? Was he in any chance in the Hellenic Navy?"

"He was one of their best, sir."

"And how does he know my wife?" Robert asked, feeling his temper rise.

"He, um…" Rachel hesitated. "Dated her, sir. When she was sixteen, until she was eighteen."

Robert swore inwardly. He whirled around and slammed the door shut.

* * *

"Aglaia?" A frighteningly familiar voice asked.

She blinked, barely out of her haze. "Leonidas?" She asked incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled sadly at her. "Your parents and the government gave me orders to oversee your security and quick departure once the children are born." Aglaia turned away.

"For all it's worth," he said gently. "I'm sorry."

"Ha." Aglaia said bitterly. "I've lost my brothers, I'm going to lose my marriage, my children will barely ever know their own father… And my new family will be lost to me as well."

Leonidas' face darkened. She always did believe in the best of people, even while they were all rot, like the Henstridges. Who knew she would fall for a bloody Henstridge, of all people?

He opened his mouth, about to say something when the door flew open. There was Robert, looking at the scene in front of him. Aglaia still crouching down and Leonidas advancing towards her, his hands held, placating, out towards her.

He froze for a moment before his eyes darkened considerably.

"Robbie." Aglaia said numbly. She was still in a grief.

"Love," he knelt in front of her, taking her into his arms.

He didn't miss the way, Leonidas' eyes darkened and his mouth tightened into a thin line. _Damn him._

So that was exactly what he was doing. Trying to seduce and comfort her. Taking advantage of her grief for her brothers and the impending divorce.

* * *

"Captain Dimitriou, is it?" Robert asked, his voice a deadly-calm.

"Yes, your majesty." The captain bowed.

Robert regarded him, his eyes flashing and his mouth pressed tight. "Just what were you doing in our private quarters, may I ask?"

"I needed to give the Crown Princess a run-down of all our security measures and assure her that everything was going to be alright." He said smoothly.

"Really?" Robert crossed his arms. "Well, I'm not sure how everything is going to be alright, considering these past events, but she will and always has been well-protected. In any case, I thought she had not yet taken the Crown Princess title."

Leonidas' eyes were chips of ice. "One can never be too prepared."

"Quite," Robert drawled back. "I see the divorce isn't even being started yet, and here you are trying to seduce and convince her to take you as her consort- a Greek native with an _impeccable_ name, I'm sure," he said sardonically.

Leonidas smirked coldly.

"I think," he said, stepping forwards. "That their majesties would like her to be safe and secure. Scandals is one thing, but danger from within… How does one guard against that? She and I both know the meaning of loss, we have lost countless family members when we were children, we saw our people's bodies line the streets and the fields rot because there was no one left alive to harvest the crops and bury the dead. We heard of our people and our families tortured to their deaths, safe to say, I would spare her of any more pain if I could. We both know the price of a throne- it's a big price- much too big, I'd say. But love and comfort… That's priceless. And the honour that comes with duty." He bowed and went on his way.

Robert stood there, absorbing his words and silently fuming. _Damn him._

Now he was sure as hell not going to let her fall into his arms even if he had to tear the monarchy apart.

And whoever did this… Would pay.

* * *

"I can't imagine what she's going through right now," Eleanor said softly.

"Why are we not allowed to see her?" Liam demanded.

Eleanor shrugged, sourly. "You know why. Our reputation is so bad, that no one trusts us anymore. Least of all with somebody's daughter."

Liam sighed and shook his head.

He was in a real mess right after Robert came back and now he would do anything to take it back.

A throne… Wasn't worth what his brother must be going through right now…

 _A throne isn't worth losing Aglaia, you mean._ A voice inside him taunted. _Face it Liam, you're still rotten inside. You want your brother's wife. You_ crave _her._

"Shut up," he growled.

"Liam?" Eleanor sounded concerned.

"Nothing," he lied. "I'm fine. I just… Need some air, that's all."

 _And some space to think about this stuff._

Somehow, Liam wasn't able to think about the fact that the Greeks- and other royals- were blaming them for the princes' death. Or the fact that his mother and he were prime suspects in this.

All he could think about was Aglaia's anguished, heartbroken lovely face, crumbling and falling… In Robert's arms…

 _At least he can't have her,_ the voice taunted. _If you can't have her, at least Robert can't have her, even if he does have the crown… Which you will eventually get anyway. Looks like dear brother doesn't get everything after all…_

Liam growled at it to shut up. It sounded suspiciously like Cyrus.

 _You don't have anyone,_ it kept taunting him. _At least somebody is suffering a loss… Like you. The big brother who always got everything… Whose shadow you've stood in for so long…_

 _You're wrong,_ Liam told it. _And I'll prove it to you._

 _I'll find a way to keep Aglaia with Robert. And our monarchies intact._


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** _ **E!**_ **owns the** _ **Royals**_ **. I don't own them.**

* * *

 **To** **Superdani4Ever** **: Wait for it- twists and turns are everywhere. I don't think Robert's allowed to do that. To be frank I'm amazed Cyrus is now classified as a former king. The British monarchs in real life- just like the Greeks used to- take constitutional oaths during their coronations, swearing that their entire lives 'whether it be long or short, shall be devoted' to their people's service. So Robert can't abdicate now that he's had the coronation. Edward VIII- Queen Elizabeth's uncle who stepped down for Wallis Simpson- didn't have a coronation before he left, so he was able to leave fairly easily. But with Liam, Eleanor, Helena and Cyrus under suspect, there's really no one else.**

* * *

 **There is the Heat of Love, the Pulsing Rush of Longing, the Lover's Whisper, irresistible- Magic to make the Sanest Man go Mad**

 _A few years back…_

Robert had been in a foul mood.

It was soon after his coronation… Everything he had ever been taught to want, everything he had been taught to expect, everything he had been trained to be…

And he hated it. Why did he hate it?

Robert sighed.

Because he would much rather have his family around him? Like it was a perfect circle? Robert could have snorted. Perfect? His family was far from perfect. As a matter of fact, his own father's death and his supposed one just revealed it was all rot to the core.

And gold. Liam had changed. He was no longer the careless, irresponsible party boy and admittedly Robert admired him for standing up to him like that. Len had changed as well. A smile touched his lips at the thought of his little sister. He felt most akin to her. Not because she was wild outwardly, but because she, unlike him, could afford to rebel whereas he secretly hated it.

Robert sighed. But even she had Jasper now. And his mother was busy with one of her numerous lovers, no doubt.

Robert was in disguise. Always adept at avoiding the paparazzi the way Liam and Eleanor never were, even as king that hadn't changed. He smirked secretly. He didn't know what he was looking for but now…

It was a festival of some sort. Robert frowned. No one had to pay or show ID to enter, but people looked like they were having a grand time. Country music was playing, kids were running around laughing and some drunks were uproariously bellowing over some joke. He smiled inwardly at that. He was always happy to hear them. Maybe because their lives were so different…

Robert wandered in.

Nobody noticed the king of England and that was the way he preferred it. He smiled, watching a mother order her children off the carousel, or some teens making out behind a lamppost. But a rush of movement caught his eye.

They were by the sea side, Robert knew this. The royal family was taking a holiday there- covertly of course- because everyone needed to cool off. He saw several young kids running around. At first he thought they were just going for another round of footie, or maybe to see some magician. But one of the boys clutched a wilted posy in his hands. He raised an eyebrow. What was that for?

They were all boys. And they looked eager for something.

Robert followed their line of sight and saw a bunch of people dancing. Oh- there was a Maypole in the distance. It was the Spring Festival. But wait- there was a group of dancers closer to them, and that was what the boys were eying. Or rather…

One of them spun gracefully into the circle of dancers. And if Robert had been holding anything he would have dropped it instantly. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, so breath-takingly beautiful the whole atmosphere suddenly seemed completely airless.

The girl's long black hair, thick and gently waving, cascaded down her back like a waterfall, it had golden and silvery lights that shot through it because it captured the light and reflected it back. Her skin glowed, luminous and flawless in a way that shamed the pearls in the Crown Jewels. It was creamy tan compared to many fair-skinned people, but rather fair as well compared to tanned ones. The girl's figure graceful and willowy but voluptuous, twirled gracefully in a white dress like the other girls dancing. Robert didn't breathe. He didn't look at them, didn't want to look at them, he felt like the whole world would come crashing down and break if he took his eyes off her, that some disaster would happen because she was the most wonderful thing and the only truly good thing in this rotten world…

He could feel his own heart beating like a drum, or thunder, the rush of his hot blood coming and flooding his entire body from head to toe. He forgot how to move, rooted to the ground, spellbound and hypnotised, unable to breathe or remember that there was another world, what and who he was, his family and their problems and his own…

The heat and the thundering of his heart came to a crashing climax as the dance did. The dancer's face showed: a perfect, delicate heart-shape with a dainty retroussé nose, delicately pointed, high, very fine cheekbones and a lush rosebud mouth that was just too lush, perfect and kissable to ignore and almond eyes. They were large, liquid emerald. Robert opened his mouth but no sound came out. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, even as the others also stared and gawked at this girl.

The dance finished. Robert's heart was still pounding like crazy but he could breathe a little. He didn't take his eyes off the girl, because he was afraid that if he would she would vanish. She was the one pure, good thing in his rotten world. He had fallen in a pit, and there she was. She promised escape, and Robert would take it…

As cliché and corny as this sounded, this was what Robert felt. The girl in the white dress- they were all in white dresses but only one dominated for them all- smiled and bent down to accept the posy. Robert knew he had to meet her, however he did it, he _had_ to.

He needed to speak to her. He didn't even stop to think.

It appeared they were raising money for charity as an announcer proclaimed. He'd give her millions more if he could meet with her.

Then there was a shout and the spell was seemingly broken.

Something was on fire. A little boy screamed and Robert ran forwards with the crowd, trying to find the source-

Except she got there before anyone else. The stall was right at the edge of the dock and she leapt forwards, not daring to hesitate, and jumped after the boy- who after being cornered by the flames, was pushed back into the sea.

By this time, some people had gotten fire extinguishers. Robert was one of them, but he saw the water broke and the little boy emerge with the girl who looked like some kind of goddess or siren. She placed him on the dock, checked his pulse and in a low voice began to speak to everyone else involved. She opened his mouth, and prepared to do CPR.

Only she never even managed to do mouth-to-mouth. The boy gasped, coughing out water, while she gently stroked his back, and murmured words of comfort to him.

He stared wide-eyed and dazzled. She gave him a smile. The most heart-breaking, breath-taking smile Robert had ever seen. And that was it. He knew one way or another, he was going to make her his.

She'd manage to avoid attention and disappeared before anyone else could speak to her. He was desperate. He needed to speak to her, to meet her- anything.

He was the bloody king of England! But he didn't give a damn, not at the moment!

He didn't notice where he was going until he nearly bumped into her. "I am so sorry, I-" the girl's musical voice began.

"It's fine, I-" he froze dead. It was _her._

The girl smiled hesitantly at him.

Robert managed a smile. He was wearing a baseball cap, he didn't look his best, he knew that.

"My sincerest apologies," the girl said formally, making his furrow his brow. She stepped aside, the same time he did- right in front of her.

Confused- and amused- she tried to sidestep the same time he did to allow her room.

He chuckled. She laughed softly. He loved that sound.

Then she froze. Her eyes widened.

"What's wrong?" Robert wanted to ask her, but she had gone as pale as snow.

Then he saw them: paparazzi. _Damn._

Robert nearly cursed under his breath. They always managed to ruin everything! At first he thought they must have realised he was among the crowd but he noticed she looked almost… Terrified.

Her. They were after her.

Robert didn't stop to think why. He whispered to here: "This way!"

She looked at him, her emerald eyes wide. He gestured to his head, glancing urgently at the paparazzi behind him. In normal circumstances she would be suspicious, but they were getting closer…

When they were at a dark, secluded alleyway, they managed to let out a breath.

Robert took off his baseball cap and ran his fingers through his hair on instinct.

She was staring back, anticipating they would chase after them, before she turned back… And saw who he was.

Robert stopped dead when he saw her eyes widen in shock. This was the last thing he wanted her to know right now.

Normally he wouldn't have had a problem with it; like Liam always said, it was a perk to be royalty which meant the girls were naturally all over you. But now, Robert found he really wished he didn't have the crown at that moment.

But to his surprise, the girl dropped an elegant curtsy and intoned: "Your Majesty." Quite formally, as if she had been raised among the aristocracy.

Robert blinked.

She straightened. But then looked uneasy.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "Though… I think they were after the scene of the accident, not either of us." She blushed a lovely colour, teeth gently nipping at her lower lip nervously.

Robert tried not to ogle at the sight. "Well… I'm glad we got away in time." He stated. She smiled involuntarily it seemed, because she seemed to have caught on what she was doing and put on a straight, serious face instead.

Robert struggled not to smirk. He thought he didn't succeed as much because her cheeks flushed with colour slightly again.

"I'm sorry to bring you into so much trouble," she said dryly and coolly, regaining some of her poise. Robert was secretly impressed.

"It wasn't any trouble," he admitted. "I was in a bad mood and I fancied a walk." He stated.

"To a Spring Festival which caught fire," she said dryly. "And a soaking wet girl whom you had to rescue from the paps. Yes, that sounds like a good walk."

Robert laughed. He actually found himself laughing genuinely it seemed, not politely.

"And a wonderful way to clear your mood," she continued wryly. "Nearly getting stampeded by paparazzi. Not something you have to go through every day," she said sarcastically.

He snorted. "No. In fact, it's quite unusual."

"I guess you could say that," she said, eyes dancing and sparkling. He found himself totally captivated by the sight.

He realised she was still soaking wet. Her dress clung to every curve and it was white which showed her skin and left practically little or nothing to the imagination. Her hair flowed loose and her massive emerald eyes were the most beautiful things, more so than his mother's jewellery collection and the Crown Jewels kept in the Tower of London.

Suddenly realising their state, she flushed. Robert tried not to stare. "Well," she said quietly. She looked down and cleared her throat, before meeting his eyes. "Thank you… Your majesty."

"The pleasure was all mine," he said quietly. And for once, he meant it.

He couldn't take his eyes off her… Or his mind.

Or his heart.

He insisted on escorting her back. She blushed deeply and said that surely a king had better things to do, but Robert insisted.

When they reached the place where she was staying Robert quizzically said that the place was a modest beach rental- a cabin.

"So you don't live here?" He asked.

"Well, actually, I live overseas," she admitted, and his heart sank. "But I study in London." It jolted and soared.

"Anywhere where I know?" He asked. "Is it close to where I live?" He asked dryly.

She actually laughed. Robert swore he could die hearing it and be happy.

Robert would never forget that day. He knew it even then.

"What's your name?" He asked. Her laughter faded, and for a moment she looked down, as if she was… Hiding something.

Robert wasn't fooled. He saw the way she ran from those paps. She thought they were after her.

He mentally ran a list through his head: celebrities? Pop stars? Movie stars? He didn't think so. He would have seen her on television and she certainly would have acted differently- perhaps she would have been more aggressive towards them, or been flashier in her clothing choice- or more conspicuous in the way she tried to hide herself.

So that left… Aristocracy? She did say that she was from another country. Why was she in England?

Her liquid emerald eyes, deeper than the ocean, met his. "Will I at least be able to see you again?" He asked, unable to help himself.

She gave a small smile.

He did see her again. At another low-key festivity there. He'd learnt her name: Aglaia.

And he would never forget.

* * *

Robert lay awake remembering all those memories, wondering just how much time he had to be a family with her and their children. Not long, he knew. Multiple pregnancies usually resulted in premature deliveries.

Her head was on his chest and they were holding each other close. Robert knew Aglaia had brought him out of a turbulent black hole of darkness, misery, rage and despair. The drama had not ended with his return and not even his marriage ended it either.

Despair, pain and fear filled him again. Would he be trapped on that island again? No, it was going to be worse, much worse.

 _No,_ he vowed. It would never happen.

And there was _Leonidas_. Robert scowled just thinking about that impudent, presumptuous bastard of a captain. Not even an idiot would mistake his motives. Aglaia, despite being months into her pregnancy and heavily grieving, was still the most beautiful woman. With three almost-ready-made heirs, the pressure to create more would not be so bad.

But he knew even before his marriage, people were cozening up to her. It made him sick and angry just thinking about it.

Aglaia heaved out a sigh that sounded like a stifled sob, and Robert looked down. She was still awake, just as he was.

He brought her closer and kissed her firmly. "I don't know when the children are due," she said numbly. "Or who did these things. All I know is that they're a target and we might not be able to see each other again in this world."

"Sshhh," He hushed her. "That's not true."

"What are the chances?" She looked up at him. Her green eyes no longer danced and shone. "What are the odds of us staying together? Monarchs above everybody else are expected to obey the laws. And I don't know… If I return to Greece with the children, I'm not sure what will happen."

Robert felt his arm tighten around her when he heard that. People were targeting them, they would be apart, the children were still unborn, and even born they would be too tiny to stand a chance. A pillow would easily smother them. He felt his rage rise.

"I'll find a way to keep us together," he vowed. "We'll stay together. And God help the scumbag who's actually enjoying all of this." His dark blue eyes flashed as he thought not only about his brothers-in-law's killers but Leonidas Dimitriou's smug face.

* * *

Robert rose early and left his wife still sleeping. He went to his study and got out a notepad and pen.

He began writing a list of names.

Alright, who was on the Greeks' list of suspects?

He already knew that his mother was. And Cyrus.

He wrote Cyrus' name down: Cyrus Henstridge.

Was Liam a suspect too? He shook his head. _That's everyone._

But who were _his_ suspects? Who would have the most to gain from the princes' deaths and his divorce?

He wrote the name: Leonidas Dimitriou.

And then not to forget, the whole reason for this in the first place: the Greeks' lack of royals remaining in the succession. Aglaia's great-uncle had been king before he, his wife, children, and grandchildren were all butchered. Everyone was killed during the Greeks' latest civil war. That ended when Aglaia's grandfather took the throne. But members of the Military Junta still remained- though some were in hiding…

As a matter of fact, one was.

* * *

Not far from Buckingham Palace, a man with a horribly scarred face and greying hair sat drinking Ouzo from a whisky glass.

"So they're dead."

"The blast killed several people, but their bodies were not discovered." The other man replied.

The first man scoffed. "And the queen? Will there really be a divorce?"

"It seems there is no other way to avoid it." The second man shrugged.

The first man downed the Ouzo in one gulp and poured himself another glass.

"I assume you will honour our agreement?" The second man boldly dared.

"I gave you my word, did I not? I want revenge, and you do too. And don't delude me with saying that King Simon and Robert was innocent and it was wrong for us to do it that way. No. Simon and Robert were the most dangerous ones. Why? Because the rest of them were so terribly, visibly flawed." He mused. "And these two seemed as close to perfect as they could be. That's what brought people towards them. That was what defined who were the monsters and who were the heroes. History is written by the victors. But also decided by the ones who observe them. Times change. Robert has to be removed. If he is removed, and so is Aglaia, one of their children- once born- will reign as king or queen in Greece, but with a regency. In Britain, Liam Henstridge would rule. And he's not his father or his brother. He has neither the brains nor the clear and level head for this. Robert is the most dangerous one. And Aglaia is the one I want."

"But what shall we do with Liam?" The second man- who had a British accent demanded. "He's useless and not as courageous, he's also quite rash and hot-headed. But he's still next in line if we remove the unborn triplets."

"Liam is not like his eldest brother or his father. It will be easy to turn people against him." The first man- who had a Greek accent- stated.

"What?" The second man demanded.

"Our sources inside the palace state that prior to the king's wedding and engagement Robert and Liam had been disagreeing. Their relationship- for once- had been strained. Aglaia merely mended the rift between the brothers- and the whole family. But remember, suspicions can easily be planted, can't they?"

* * *

Cyrus and Veruca returned from their honeymoon soon enough. The former king and his remarried wife the Duchess of Essex, both hiding behind a pair of oversized sunglasses as if that would make them less strange and appear more like the relatives, helpfully providing comfort and grieving alongside the rest of them.

"Have them thoroughly checked," King Konstantinos muttered quietly to the members of the Greek Intelligence Services- the NIS. "But discreetly."

"Yes, your majesty." The agents bowed and left. The king sighed. Grief was not kind.

Cyrus' daughters were not intelligent enough to not only have masterminded anything but even as accessories in this, they would have to be discounted. Robert certainly not. He would not have wanted to endanger or lose his wife in any way, and he had no reasons to get rid of Aglaia's brothers. Helena… What about her? King Konstantinos' brow furrowed as he thought about it. Helena was a fighter to the very bitter end. For what? To keep her title of course. Cyrus himself didn't try to strip her of it. He let her remain as his consort. But that fooled no one and they battled it hard-out within their palace walls. And he knew she wasn't happy about his daughter taking her place- or even the idea of getting old, but was that reason enough to kill? Helena's mother had been stripped of her title of Grand Duchess of Oxford (why did they give these titles so recklessly? He heard Cyrus made a prostitute a baroness) with no explanation whatsoever. And people did say…

So the former Grand Duchess was a suspect. Helena had had her affairs, what if she did not want to marry Simon? Konstantinos frowned as he pondered the possibilities. But what reason would the former Grand Duchess have to remove her grandson's wife and his three unborn children from their line of succession?

Konstantinos closed his eyes.

Lines of grief were etched on his face along with age. Suddenly he felt old. He remembered his father had buried his three younger siblings while Konstantinos was the only one who survived. Unlike Helena he did not wish to hide his age….

But, wait. The civil war… Konstantinos froze. Of course, an heir apparent was the most vulnerable when he or she was young and helpless. The spares too. If Aglaia came back to Greece, and something were to happen to her that would leave her triplets- currently unborn as first, second and third in line. If something happened to her while she was pregnant…

Could this be a former Military Junta plot? The people who killed his own family during the civil war, possibly associating with the Henstridges' numerous enemies?

 _Yes,_ he thought. _I think it is._

Anastasia watched her husband. Both were dressed in deepest black.

"How is she?" He asked without turning towards her, as if from a great distance.

"She needs to eat more, she's barely eaten since…" Anastasia froze and pressed her lips tightly together, because she almost wailed out loud. She was a queen, she could not do such things.

"And…" Konstantinos hesitated. He desperately wanted to know if they had managed to identify their sons' bodies, but he could not make himself say this, least of all to his grieving wife.

Anastasia bit her lip to keep from crying out, but she sank to the ground. Instantly, her husband was by her side, embracing her tightly.

There was no way to make things better. Only to salvage what they had left.

* * *

Liam walked through the halls of the palace. Well, the Henstridges were long overdue for some peace, but the drama clearly hadn't ended.

Alright, so what could he do?

Firstly, based on what little they'd read up on the Greek princes… There wasn't much he could do.

The old Military Junta, the many Ted Pryces and Jeffrey Stewarts… Liam didn't know how and where to begin.

He needed to see someone.

In the meantime, the security cameras were shut down, one by one while James Hill and Jasper Frost were speaking to Their Majesties the king of Britain and the king and queen of Greece. Queen Helena was conspicuously absent.

Leonidas Dimitriou was- to Robert's barely suppressed rage- with the king and queen.

And Len was absent too.

Liam was striding down the corridors when they were all shut down.

"Good evening." A voice said, and he whirled only to come face to face with…

Ted Pryce. His father's killer.

"You," he breathed. "But this isn't possible… I saw you. You were killed."

"You never saw a body," Pryce retorted. "You never pulled the trigger."

"What are you doing here?" Liam found himself asking. "How did you get out alive?"

"I had help." Pryce said. Liam swallowed. "Did you…"

"Someone else had a grudge against the Greek royals, stemming back to the days of the civil war," Ted replied.

"You mean the Military Junta," Liam breathed. "The members- they're still out there, aren't they? You had help from them? They committed genocide. This is a new low, Pryce, even from you."

"Easier said than done," Ted replied shortly. "The new king will be divorced. His queen will soon take the Greek throne, and soon after her infants are born, one of them will be king or queen."

"You're going to kill her too?" Liam had gone unnaturally white.

Ted did not answer. "You know Liam." He said, stepping to the side. "I may have underestimated you. I predicted that you wouldn't be a Robert. And maybe you weren't. But you'll certainly never be a Simon. Or a king, even if the three unborn royals are moved out of the way and packed off to Athens under the guise of a regent."

Liam went whiter still. "So you're going to kill their mother, Aglaia, and Robert? What about him? And me?"

"I don't need to kill you," Ted said unexpectedly. "You're already on the list of suspects. Not as high as your mother and uncle, but still. Haven't you realised all the security cameras are turned off where we are?" Liam's eyes widened as he listened to this. "And that while your brother is conversing with the Greek king and queen and with his soon-to-be ex-wife, your mother, uncle and sister are nowhere to be seen and you have conveniently managed to lose the sight of the Greek NIS agents trailing you."

Liam froze. They were trailing him. He felt… He didn't know he was on the list of suspects.

"Why?" He found himself saying, without even knowing what. "Why what?" Ted asked. "Why are you on the list of suspects? You're a Henstridge, Liam. Your name is now notorious."

Ted kicked aside a heavy curtain to reveal… Liam held his breath in case he threw up. A dead body. A Greek security agent.

Ted took out a walkie-talkie. "Cameras back." He announced. "Goodbye Liam."

"Wait- you can't just-" Liam shouted not really knowing what he was saying. But Ted smashed open a window with a mallet hidden behind the same curtain- apparently used as the murder weapon. Alarms started blaring and Pryce disappeared through a secret passageway.

Liam pounded the hidden door. "Pryce!" He hollered. "Open this door- open this _door!"_ In one of his stupidest ideas- he would later recall- he took the same mallet and prepared to batter down the door, but security guards began to rush in and froze at the sight.

Jasper was there as well. His eyes were wide as he took in the sight in front of him.

"Sir," One of them said urgently. He tried to hold out his hand, attempting to placate Liam. "Sir- please. No guns- put the weapon down."

"I didn't do this," Liam spluttered. "I didn't- Jasper-" Jasper's horrified blue eyes met Liam's and Liam knew even if Jasper was on his side, there was no other way. Ted had been wearing gloves when he held that mallet. Liam was not.

In one seriously _dumb_ move, he thought, but he had no choice- Liam leapt out of the window.

Security agents began shouting at each other and through their wrist-coms. "Secure the palace- Prince Liam is a suspect!"

* * *

" _What?!"_ Robert stared incredulously at the security guards. Jasper was silent at the back.

"One of the Greek NIS agents was found dead in the hallway. The security cameras were switched off. He'd been battered to death with a mallet- the murder weapon was found- and Prince Liam was holding it."

Robert stared, in disbelief. He was unable to speak.

"Where is he?" Robert swallowed. "Where is my brother?" He demanded. He wanted to talk to Liam by himself. To see if it was all true.

He wouldn't accept it without seeing Liam.

"Prince Liam jumped out of the window, sir." Another security guard did not meet his eyes. "It was a good thing it was on the ground level, sir."

Robert- his mouth agape and horrified- was stunned beyond comprehension. Liam had… Killed someone? This was not like his younger brother.

But why? Why an NIS agent? _Because they were tailing him,_ a voice inside him said. They were tailing him because he was a suspect in the bombings and the princes' assassinations. And the rest of his family.

Robert knew about that. He knew about his mother and mother-in-law's confrontation in which Anastasia accused Helena of numerous murders- involving an ex-girlfriend of his father's apparently and a maid's. And something about Ted Pryce's wife.

But Liam couldn't have done that. Liam couldn't have murdered someone. Robert refused to believe it and yet…

 _The Liam I know would never do such a thing, he_ swore to himself.

But a voice asked, _Is he the Liam you know?_

The Liam he remembered was rash, and maybe he still was, but he was playful. The Liam he came back to… Was a very different person. Grim and quiet was the least of things.

 _No,_ Robert thought. But that niggling voice asked him, since when did Liam fight you for a girlfriend? He knew Liam had done a lot more than kiss Kathryn.

And he had seen the way Liam looked at Aglaia. His currently single brother and his wife. Liam seemed calmer, more at peace and definitely happier when they were speaking together. But he couldn't have… Could he?

Robert looked at Jasper. "Did you see this?" He asked him.

Jasper swallowed. "I didn't see the murder, your majesty."

"But you saw Liam with the weapon in his hands," Robert pressed, his dark blue eyes wide, imploring, his heart pounding. He needed to know the truth of this. He would delve deep for the truth.

He _had_ to. He needed to.

Jasper finally managed to look at him. Robert knew Jasper and Liam were close. He wanted to get Jasper's viewpoint on this. "I saw him." He admitted.

Robert let out a shaky breath. "Find him." He ordered. "Don't hurt him- don't harm him or scare him off- but find him!"

Robert had to confess what he had found to his wife.

"WHAT?!" Needless to say, she was in shock.

"Liam was found in a corridor in the palace, with the security cameras shut down and a weapon in his hands. A weapon that was used to batter an NIS agent to death a few minutes ago, based on what the autopsy said." Robert said quietly.

Aglaia sat up in bed. "I don't believe it," she said. "I don't believe Liam did that."

Robert's eyes darkened. "I know you wouldn't." He said, dangerously.

He turned around and left.

"Where are you going?" His bewildered wife asked after him. Robert only closed the door.

* * *

Temper mounting dangerously, Robert strode through the palace hallway. Liam did it, did he? He wasn't sure, but she _clearly_ didn't believe he did it.

Any more than she would believe that Leonidas Dimitriou had other motives apart from stupid security.

Temper mounting like a wave now, Robert cursed and swore inwardly.

She was one of the most intelligent and savvy people he had ever met. And she was also one of the most innocent and hopelessly naïve. Aglaia wouldn't know anyone's infatuation if it threw itself on the floor and loudly proclaimed its love for her.

And he could see it in Liam's eyes- as well as that damned captain's. They were infatuated with her.

And she was about to divorce him, albeit against her will.

And Captain Leonidas Dimitriou would be waiting with open arms and a smug smile on his disgustingly handsome face.

Or Liam would…

Robert flung a door open. It bounced against the wall with a bang and he marched into the room.

He was practically boiling now.

Kathryn he could get over, but _Aglaia?_ She was the love of his _life,_ the only one for him, his soulmate. The only good thing to come out in such terrible, dark times.

Insides practically screaming with fury, the King of the United Kingdom headed for his mother's rooms.

* * *

"I just… I just want to see her," Len was saying, helplessly.

"I know, dear." Her mother muttered. "But her harridan of a mother won't let any of us get ten yards near Aglaia, or her unborn children."

"But Mum," Len protested. _"Why?"_

Helena shook her head and drank her tea. Robert came in the room.

They both stood, putting down their teacups.

"Darling," his mother began urgently. "Where were you?" He interrupted.

They looked quizzically at him.

"What do you mean?" Helena was confused. "We were right here all along."

"I mean when it _happened."_ Robert stressed, gritting his teeth.

"When _what_ happened?" Len asked, confused as her mother.

Robert breathed deeply and tried to calm himself. He crossed the room.

"A Greek NIS agent's body was found in one of the corridors. The security cameras were all switched off. He had been battered to death with a mallet of some kind. There was an alert of some kind and when security rushed towards the corridor…" He went very still.

Slowly, he turned towards his mother and sister. He felt himself go cold all over as he spoke to them:

"They found Liam holding the murder weapon with the man's blood." Robert finished, his voice and expression deadened.

The two had frozen.

"What?" That was Eleanor.

Robert heaved out a breath and sat on the couch. He covered his face with his hands.

"They think Liam killed him." He said, slowly bringing his face up. "He dropped the weapon. It was definitely used to kill the man. Investigation showed that. And it only had Liam's fingerprints."

"WHAT?!" That was both of them. "No- no way, Liam couldn't have done that-" Eleanor began denying fervently. No, Liam could never have-

"I know that!" Robert nearly shouted. "But he's ran off and nobody can find him! And now he's much higher on the list of suspects on who planted that bomb that killed Alexios and Dimitri." He looked at them. "I've given orders not to harm or scare him off, and I expect them to be followed! But I want to know the truth of this, we all do, but we can't get it out without Liam."

"Liam isn't a murderer!" Eleanor exclaimed.

"I _know_ that!" Robert countered. "But he was a witness. And maybe he can tell us who."

Helena shook her head, aghast. How could things have gone this badly?

"We just need Liam's word on what happened and who did it," Robert said, desperately, all thoughts about Liam and Leonidas Dimitriou harbouring illicit infatuations towards his wife, completely forgotten. Liam was his brother. And he sure damned well would do anything keep him safe. "That was we can counter the evidence of him doing anything."

"But we can't _find_ him," Eleanor said desperately. Robert let out a shaky breath.

"We can _try."_

* * *

Jasper rushed secretly underground. He had to find Liam. He knew he was innocent, even if he didn't see the look on his face.

Liam couldn't kill Ted Pryce in that car. He didn't pull the trigger. How could he possibly bludgeon a person he didn't know to death, even if it was an NIS agent tracking him under suspicion of the princes' murders?

There was someone who could help.

Unfortunately all security cameras were switched off where Liam had went. The Greeks believed that this was because Liam had ordered someone to switch them off wherever he went, but Jasper knew that Liam didn't have the authority to do that: only Robert did and he was busy, his mind occupied with trying to convince the Greek king and queen to let him keep his wife for as long as he could.

And Liam was admittedly, rash and hot-headed. He had been trying to batter down a secret door for the security in the palace with that mallet. Why? If someone had gotten through just at the very last minute…

Jasper stared at that same secret passageway that Liam had been trying to get through. Someone had come through there.

The murderer. Possibly the one who had been responsible for the blast that killed the Greek princes as well as injuring several civilians, some critically.

He- or she- had framed Liam for murder.

Why? Why Liam?

Jasper's eyes widened as he realised what this meant.

With Robert's unborn triplets removed from the British line of succession because their mother was now first-in-line for the Greek one that left Liam back to being first for the former. And after Liam came Len. Len who was also nowhere to be seen during the murder…

Jasper's eyes widened further. Damn. Someone was trying to remove the twins by discrediting them so they wouldn't be able to inherit the throne.

Jasper's jaw dropped. Was it Cyrus?

Cyrus had killed before. Jasper knew that Cyrus had been responsible for the death of Jeffrey Stewart by poisoning, but even though he publicly humiliated Queen Helena and the twins by revealing her affairs and claiming that the twins weren't King Simon's, would he actually be able to frame them for murder?

Okay, leaving that aside, he decided to look at another angle.

Aglaia wouldn't have had to be first in line if there hadn't been a civil war, that's what Len said. A civil war in which the royal family had been explicitly targeted along with others including ethnic Slavs and political opponents.

They had nearly been decimated.

Jasper closed his eyes. He needed to think. He needed expert skills…

His eyes widened as he realised just who he could go to.

* * *

"Yes? I'm coming," Willow called out.

She adjusted her dressing gown.

"Hi," Jasper said. "Jasper Frost. I'm with the royal security detail. I really need your help." He put on his best pleading face.

"Okay, so um, the Greek Military Junta… Most of them are either in prison, or have since been released." Willow looked at her computer screen. "A number of them have died. Some are really old now."

"So the ones who have been released..." Jasper pressed.

"Well they're not allowed out of the country, they're being kept under strict monitoring and seclusion." Willow stated. "But not all of them went to prison?"

"No," Willow replied. "Some have escaped. Like the Nazis, I guess, except I don't think many of them dared to flee to South America. The Greek government and the United Nations were made aware of who went where coming from Greece and bordering countries, like Macedonia have strict border security."

Jasper's brow furrowed. "But it's still possible," he began sceptically.

"It's still possible," Willow agreed. "And some of them could be in the UK. London itself has a Greek community. They fled during the war."

Jasper straightened. "So… We need to, um, match faces, find an address-"

Willow nodded. "On it." Just then the door knocked.

Jasper's hand instantly went to his gun, but slowly, he edged closer to the door. After peering through the eye-hole, his eyes widened and he threw it open.

It was Liam. He was breathing hard and leaning against the door.

And it wasn't just him. Prince Dimitri of Greece looked at Jasper with a grim smile.

"Looking for this?" He asked.

* * *

"How the hell did you manage to evade security services?" Jasper asked incredulously. He was targeting his question to both princes.

Dimitri gave a grim smirk. "I was a high-profile member of the NIS for quite some time," he stated. "I still affiliate myself with them. Just as Alexios is still a member of the Greek Special Operations division."

"So you're telling me he survived too?" Jasper demanded. Dimitri scoffed. "Of course. He was the one who spotted the explosive."

He remembered the moment of explosion. "We knew someone was onto us for quite some time. The fact is, that the former Military Junta didn't dare attempt to assassinate any of us for a long time, and normally they still wouldn't have, but I think now that we associate with the Henstridges and our sister has married one of them, that they've been offered an opportunity- an opportunity they would gladly take and strike with."

Everyone- from Jasper to Willow who was absorbing all this in shock- to Liam who was dabbing a cloth to stem his bleeding nose- was silent as they listened to Prince Dimitri.

"I have to admit, Prince Liam was on our list of suspects when we heard of an attempt to kill us both," Dimitri stated. "We came to England to make sure our sister and her unborn children were alright. So we quickly came from Greece, much sooner than we intended and met with her. We didn't want to scare or stress her out at such a time, but we did warn her of potential enemies- a number of them are," he looked at Liam. "Admittedly, the members of the family she's married into. But Liam couldn't have done this. Liam couldn't have planted a bomb of such high-tech into our car which is highly packed with security. For starters, he's never entered into the military. I don't know why you wear a dress uniform if you haven't royal or otherwise though," Dimitri said coolly. It was clear he still disdained, or at the very least disliked Liam. "But he's certainly not a weapons' expert either. And he hasn't got enough money, loaded as he is, generously provided by his elder brother, to pay anyone to set up an explosive and infiltrate our car, which would have been very difficult, if not impossible.

"So even though we had to play dead to catch whoever was responsible before they tried to kill our precious sister, we still kept tabs of things going on in the palace. What you didn't know was that right before our sister's wedding- because none of us trust any of you except for Robert- we had the palace bugged. It was cleverly disguised and no one knew, not even the agents we made certain would look the other way, despite our apparent lack of cooperation. We saw what happened." Everyone looked shocked.

"It wasn't Liam who killed the NIS agent. It was Ted Pryce."

There was a horrified, stunned silence. "Ted Pryce is dead." Jasper said.

"Did you ever find a body?" Dimitri raised an eyebrow. "What is it with you people? You claim that someone's dead before you even see the proof- Robert, Ted Pryce, Alexios and I… Really? How can a security guard not know if someone's dead or alive?" Jasper's lips tightened in embarrassment at the prince's tone.

"All we have to do is find out exactly who else is involved and stop them before they try anything else."

Jasper shook his head, trying to get his thoughts under control. "Where is Crown Prince Alexios?" He asked.

"In the palace," Dimitri answered smoothly. "Lying in wait for the bastards who are going to try to kill our sister. We'll kill them first, whoever they are. We'll be damned if we don't."

"You might be helpful enough to let a hint out to your grieving sister and your parents that you're still alive," Jasper spoke.

Dimitri was silent for a while. "I wouldn't rather do anything more," he said quietly. "But we don't know how clever all of them is. And we don't want to lose now, not when we've got everything to lose." He gave a subtle, but strong glare at Liam. Hot-headed rash Liam, who admittedly, did lose control.

* * *

Robert stood silently as it all went by.

He wasn't about to sit there and do nothing either.

Funny enough, he had come to the same conclusions as Jasper Frost when hearing that Liam had been trying to batter down a secret door with that mallet.

Liam could be rash, he knew that.

And now he'd been discredited. And Eleanor and his mother was under suspect.

That left him alone out of all the Henstridges who was good enough in people's eyes to reign as king.

The palace was keeping a tight rein over all of this, confidentiality reports everywhere. MI5, MI6, Scotland Yard and the NIS collaborative agents were working overtime.

But he knew that while the Greek royals hadn't had an assassination attempt in years and were far less likely, the frank, brutal truth was that _his_ family, the Henstridges, now had a lot of enemies. Which meant that these people would have the guts to possibly collaborate and attack while the princes were in London. His wife was vulnerable in her pregnant state, they believed. It would be easy to get rid of her once the triplets were born, and the security dropped and they went on their way to Athens.

Robert stared at the bottle of Malvasia or 'Malmsey' Wine sitting on the table- Aglaia's family brought it for the wedding. A bitter smirk twisted his lips. That wine was the wine of class, status and luxury in Medieval England. It came from Greece. After betraying his eldest brother Edward IV, George Duke of Clarence was drowned in a barrel of Malmsey Wine- his own choice of death. Shakespeare said that Richard III was supposedly responsible for this brother's death as well as the deaths of his two nephews, the Princes in the Tower. Yes, Robert did consider Cyrus but he didn't seem like he had that much guts. Cyrus was capable of it, but concocting such a brilliant scheme? No, his style was poison and dump the body in the Thames, not framing someone so elaborately and meticulously to remove them from the line of succession. Not even Veruca- as little as he knew her- could have been responsible for that.

This reeks of Ted Pryce, he thought. But Pryce was dead, surely. Were there more like him? Robert grimaced. He needed to get back to Aglaia, to be with her or check on her at the very least.

But wait. He froze. There was a sizeable Greek community in London- and England in general. He knew some had fled during the latest Greek civil war that wiped out most of Aglaia's family and saw them targeted. What if, like the Nazis, among the refugees, were the criminals themselves.

But what was he going to do? He scowled. He knew this because he and Aglaia had met them. But what if they had come under a false identity- which they likely did to avoid prosecution. He could match faces but there must have been thousands.

Still, he looked grim. He could start.

To bring those bastards that killed his wife's brothers, tried to get them to divorce and framed his _own brother_ was a pleasure indeed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: No-** _ **E!**_ **owns the** _ **Royals**_ **. I don't own them.**

 **To** **Superdani4Ever** **: Aw- thank you! I think they just had the bombshell dropped- now they realise they were being snubbed for quite some time (and the Greek royals got the pity treatment from them- who wanted their daughter to marry into that crazy family?).**

 **But even as royalty, they wouldn't have recognised each other** _ **that**_ **well, because while they may or may not have bumped** _ **occasionally**_ **into each other, remember as kids, the focus on their caregivers and parents- especially Aglaia's one- would have been on raising, grooming, educating them and safeguarding their privacy, so they really wouldn't have gone on royal tours overseas extensively, and Aglaia had a happier childhood with less pressure and public appearances than Robert who was the heir. I don't think there is much scrutiny on other royals apart from the British (due to things like BBC and English spoken globally).**

 **As for her security- I imagine she gave them the slip! Other royals do study in London- the Japanese Emperor's granddaughter, Princess Mako studied did, so did the princes of Swaziland, while their sister went to America. Not that much media coverage, if any. And while security would undoubtedly be there, a large amount of security guards in black suits and sunglasses would have been far too conspicuous- and dangerous.**

 **Yeah, Ted Pryce. We never did see a body, did we? Not with Robert either.**

* * *

 **Men at some time are the Masters of their Fates:... The Fault, dear Brutus, lies not with our Stars...**

Robert poured in the files as fast as he could.

Next to nothing on Alexios and Dimitri. That was strange. But that was the truth. Like their records had been deliberately wiped.

Robert almost threw them aside in frustration.

Whether it was the fact that Captain Dimitriou would be trying desperately to get his hands on Robert's wife, of losing her and his unborn children, of Liam being killed or imprisoned, for all the diplomatic immunity in the world, Robert breathed deeply and strove as hard as he could to keep everything intact.

And then there was also the prospect of his wife being assassinated, Greece being plunged into another civil war which would see his children massacred, his in-laws distrust of his family and having the system descend into anarchy in Britain. Almost forgot about that, he thought sarcastically.

Faces of various Greek individuals popped up. Or rather, immigrants and refugees that arrived in England around the time of the civil war, just before it ended, during its ending or right after. There were just too many of them. Robert ground his teeth in frustration.

 _Damn this,_ he thought as he stood and began looking up members of the former Military Junta which had taken over Greece; those that had been released and those who evaded capture. The faces needed to match- any one of them.

And there was something else that bothered him. His mother-in-law's accusations that his family had been responsible for various murders. Yes, Cyrus did take advantage of his mother's affair with Alistair Lacey- or someone else- to place himself and not Liam on the throne when their father died. But was he a murderer? Robert didn't know. He _did_ love his uncle despite his faults and taking the throne. And his mother? He knew the relationship between his parents wasn't really as rosy as the way they presented it to the world, but did she really have his father's old girlfriend or fiancée killed just so she would become queen someday?

Robert closed his eyes. He wasn't sure whom he could trust.

It would take a while before anything showed up electronically. Robert looked in irritation at the computer screen. He would need to confront his mother firstly.

* * *

"Tell me about Dominique Stewart." Robert stated bluntly. Eleanor was in the room with them. Robert had decided against the outright approach of asking where they were, first he wanted to know if his mother would be honest with him. Eleanor had always been- but his mother? He wasn't so sure.

"Dominique was the love of your father's life," Helena admitted. "She came from the Stewart family." Robert registered them as a line of war heroes and a clan of aristocracy. "She died before they could be married."

"How did she die?" Robert questioned.

"She was murdered." That was Eleanor. Well, so much for finding out if his mother would tell the truth.

"And who murdered her?" Robert persisted. Both of them could not meet his eyes.

"It was my mother," Helena said quietly. Robert stiffened and stood very still. His grandmother? _"Duchie?"_ He asked incredulously with the pet nickname they always had for her.

"Yeah," Eleanor said quietly. "It was her. She arranged for Dominique- or Domino as Dad called her- to get into a riding accident."

Robert breathed out, shakily. So there _were_ murderers in his family. "And?" He asked. "When did you find out?"

"Another girl contacted Liam- her name was also Dominique Stewart. Her dad was the original Domino's brother. Apparently her dad was out for revenge."

"And what happened to him?" Robert asked. "Did he get his revenge?"

Eleanor shook his head. Helena's eyes were glued to the floor.

"No. He made a deal with Ted Pryce, but he never got anything."

"Where is he now?" Helena and Eleanor looked at each other. "I don't know," they both admitted at the same time.

Robert closed his eyes. "Has he been seen since or heard of since then?"

Silence. He knew the answer well enough. His in-laws were right. This was a nest of vipers.

"Do you think Cyrus killed him?" Robert demanded. "Please, tell me the truth."

Helena took a breath. "I know that Cyrus… Ordered Lucius to have Alistair killed."

" _Alistair?"_ Robert demanded. Helena looked down. "Cyrus and Lucius murdered Alistair?"

"No- they tried, and failed. But Alistair left me after he confronted me on whether or not the twins were really his." Robert's lips pressed into a tight line.

So that was where Lucius went.

"So Cyrus did try to kill someone," he said coldly. "And it never occurred to you to tell me about this? That my own relatives, my uncle and my grandmother, were capable of murder? Who else died? Queen Anastasia said something about a maid…"

"It was Violet," Helena admitted. "That was her name. Your grandmother thought Cyrus was going to marry her. She had her killed, or so we thought." Robert's eyes flashed. "And the other maid was Prudence. Your uncle blackmailed her into having sex with him or he would have her fired or arrested, I'm not sure. But she became pregnant. And he tried to marry her. But I… Wanted to get back at him for Alistair and I didn't want Liam or Eleanor to be displaced before they were even proven to be Simon's. So I replaced the priest with a gynaecologist and when the baby was born, I smuggled him and his mother out. Prudence came quite willingly. The marriage was never legal."

Robert let out a breath. "So Cyrus really could have been responsible for all this," he said icily. "Tell me, Mum, was Ted Pryce acting alone?"

Helena and Eleanor looked at each other. Their bewildered looks was answer enough. "We don't know," Helena admitted.

"And Duchie?" He demanded. "Where is she now?"

"We've stripped her of her title, she's not allowed to come to the palace anymore."

Robert's lips were now pressed into a thin line. "You could have told me all this before I came to the throne and got _married."_ He glared icily at Helena, before his gaze turned towards Eleanor. "And sired children. Why did I bring my children into this world when one of their own relatives could easily murder them to take the throne? Why did I expect to keep my own wife safe, if I can't save anyone else?" He shook his head. Robert turned and left.

"Dad was right to be disappointed with this family." He said, turning back, before heading back out.

Eleanor bit her lip and looked down, trying to hold back her tears. Robbie, her big brother, always so golden, always so forgiving and positive, always looking at her bright points, was now disappointed in her.

Helena herself was deeply hurt and disappointed.

Now Robert knew the truth. "Sir," one of the few MI5 agents he trusted came back. "We've found a match." Robert nodded and immediately went to inspect it.

* * *

"Well, we're matching everything." Willow got out her first-aid kit. "I can give a few names, but they're probably living under an alias," Dimitri said darkly. He strode over to the computer.

"Our sister's at high risk along with her babies, and who knows who else. An NIS agent is already dead, murdered, and I have a feeling that the body count is going to keep going up." Dimitri looked grim and determined. "It's my job to make sure it goes back _down."_

Liam looked at him irritably before Willow came and daubed his bleeding eye. He was cut in various places.

"I'm Dimitri by the way," the Greek prince said with a charming smile to Willow. "Willow," she introduced herself, taking his hand. "I'd say it's a pleasure, your royal highness but…" She trailed off.

Dimitri laughed. "But we've clearly all seen better days." He glanced at her and Liam. "How did you two know each other?"

"Well… We…" Willow stammered. "I was the one who started the hashtag King Liam on social media," she blushed under his interest.

"Oh," Dimitri straightened and gave her a _very_ handsome smile. "So you're the genius that had the guts to try to put things right in your country." His grin widened as his eyes fixed themselves onto her. "I must say, we heard about that, even in Greece. But I never thought that the one behind it would be a very intelligent, very brave young girl to stand up against King Cyrus."

Willow blushed _very_ deeply.

Liam felt a strong irritation. He felt a powerful urge to punch the Greek prince on his outrageously handsome face although knowing Dimitri he would probably end up snapped in half if he so much as tried. With Alexios he would have ended up worse; he was the more violent brother.

"We found one," Jasper interrupted Liam's thoughts.

"Who?" Dimitri straightened. Jasper gestured to the screen. "Argus Metaxas." Dimitri's eyes bugged. "Metaxas?!" He leaned forwards. "That can't be," he whispered.

Willow and Liam looked alarmed. "You know him?" Liam demanded.

"He's one of the most dangerous supporters of the Military Junta during the days of the civil war- he's here in England?" Dimitri asked, aghast.

"Under the alias of Aristotle Anastos." Jasper squinted.

Dimitri let out a shaky breath. "And where does Aristotle Anastos live?" He asked dangerously.

"We don't know," Jasper admitted. "Wait- it's here." He gave an address not far from where they were.

Dimitri's eyes narrowed. "He has a lot to answer for."

The former Grand Duchess of Oxford, Alexandra's whereabouts were at her country estate. She wasn't living such a luxurious lifestyle at all, Robert thought. It came as no surprise. Apparently, his mother's father had died, leaving them almost bankrupt and that was the reason as to why his grandmother wanted Helena to marry King- then Prince- Simon. Now that she had been revealed to have been the murderer of Dominique Stewart- so that Helena could become queen- and Violet, Cyrus' supposed girlfriend- because she wanted Helena to remain queen and her grandson to become king- she was cut off. No royal allowance, nothing except for an elderly pension which just wasn't enough to sustain the lifestyle she was used to. Robert knew she could not have been responsible for the Greek princes' murder. He had been as close to his grandmother as his siblings were and this shook him to the core, to say the least.

* * *

Robert exhaled. One person discounted, but still not trustworthy. Then there was Cyrus.

Possibly, he was a collaborator. But something was off. He looked at the perfect face matches of Argus Metaxas and Aristotle Anastos. Perfect, though it apparently aged. They had to match it even further. There were no photographs taken of Anastos back in the day when he was first arrived but Intelligence Services were sure this was Metaxas one of the notorious supporters of the old Greek Military Junta.

And he was already gone. Agents had scoured where he lived. Apparently Metaxas had left beforehand. He found himself wondering whether or not Liam knew this. _If_ he did the likely thing he would do was to rush in over there, which Robert doubted would do any good. Robert needed to spring a trap.

* * *

"How could Liam have done this?" Len's eye makeup was once again running down her face.

"Liam didn't do it. And I don't think Robert believes that either."

"No," Helena agreed.

"But where's Liam?" Eleanor despaired.

"What?" That was Aglaia. She was in her dressing gown, bump clearly visible beneath the fabric surrounded by more than a dozen security guards.

"Aglaia." Len said in surprise. She and her mother stood. "I thought… You were in your room."

Aglaia shook her head sadly. "I've done enough grieving and resting. The babies are fine, they're active now." She sighed. She nearly sagged but Len and some security guards caught her and they handed her a glass of water.

Aglaia took careful sips. "Robert told me about what happened. I don't think anyone who knows Liam believes he's capable of murder. Not least of all to a random NIS agent. He's not stupid." She put the glass down.

"We have to prove that he's innocent," she stated. "And catch the monsters who did this." She exhaled. Rubbing her belly gently, she tried to calm the children who, probably sensing their mother's distress, were kicking a storm.

Humming a lullaby under her breath, the babies started to quieten down a little. "May I?" Len asked, longingly. Aglaia gave a sad smile, and took Len's hand, pressing it to where she could feel a foot thumping.

Len's eyes widened as she felt it. Aglaia smiled at her mother-in-law and beckoned her forwards. Hesitantly, but longingly, Helena made her way forwards and placed her hand to where Aglaia was indicating. A baby kicked back as if in greetings.

Tears shone in Helena's eyes though she never let them fall. She smiled, rare and genuine joy inside of her, as she felt her son's unborn baby kick- no, wait, that was three children. Three of her son's children were kicking back as if greeting her.

Aglaia let out a breath. "I don't what world I'm bringing my children into," she admitted. "Or whether or not I'll be able to protect them. But they're my children. And they deserve a chance at life. They deserve family. That's the most important thing. The thing worth dying for- not a throne, not a dynasty, but _family._ Family and home are different than what people think they are."

Breathing deeply again, she made her way back to their rooms.

"So… Would you like to be godmother, Leni?" She asked.

Len's eyes widened as she heard this request, and saw Aglaia's eyes which had regained a little of their former sparkle. "You… You want me to…" She stuttered.

Aglaia tilted her head. "Well, if you don't want to…"

"No," she fervently blurted out. "No, I'd love to… But are you sure? I mean, I've made so many mistakes-"

"But when you made them and hit rock bottom you found your way up," Aglaia said quietly. "And I know you'll be there for them, to warn them from doing the same. That's why I want you to be their godmother." _In case anything happens to me,_ she thought.

And it probably would. She wasn't stupid. She knew that marriage to the Henstridges would mean that her life would be in danger, especially in regards to being the mother to the next heir and spares. She also knew- despite her husband and parents deliberately trying to keep her unaware- or rather _guessed,_ that somewhere amongst the Greek community in England, at least one person burned with a terrible grudge.

But why? She nearly choked. There had been children among the dead when the civil war broke loose.

And now her brothers? She didn't know.

* * *

"So no Metaxas," Liam almost snapped.

"No," Willow agreed.

"So what now?"

They all looked at each other.

"Metaxas is the main priority, and Pryce, but we have no proof of your innocence, apart from the electronics we planted in your palace, and they are quite vague. No, we need to draw Pryce out- him and Metaxas. Do they know we're onto them? I don't know. Who else is involved? I also don't know. But I do know they're going to try to kill more and more people if they're allowed to roam free. Children died during our civil war. They were tortured and butchered just like the adults, and I'm not just talking about the ones who were unfortunate enough to carry royal blood- my own family. I'm talking about everyone. If people weren't killed, they fled or just died. This is going to happen again to Greece, it may or may not happen to Britain- as unlikely as it seems, anarchy can do anything." Dimitri's voice was like steel. "Do you want to save your people? Because right now, they're in extreme danger."

Liam, Jasper and Willow were silent. Now, the reality of their situation had sunk in.

And these guys had to be the ones to save the day. _Damn._

* * *

Forget this, Robert almost cursed.

He was going to spring the trap.

Aglaia was sleeping for once. They tried to get her to rest, but she could barely sleep. Robert went to her and stroked her hair gently away from her face.

She stirred. "Mmm." She murmured.

Robert held her close and sighed. "I'm sorry I woke you," he apologised.

"Robbie," she whispered. He kissed her and held her tighter.

"Don't leave," she whispered. "I don't know how much time we have left."

Robert ground his jaw. "We have the rest of our lives."

Aglaia sighed. "I know someone will try to kill me soon. I don't need the heavy security to make me aware. I know that Liam was framed to remove him from the line of succession. And that Eleanor, your mother and Cyrus are also under suspicion, which means that they could be placed into international trouble. That leaves only you in the palace on the throne, but who's going to succeed you? Not the babies," she pressed a hand on her belly.

Robert pressed his own larger hand on top of hers. He could feel the babies kicking inside. _His_ children. _Their_ children. Could he protect them or their mother? He didn't know.

But he knew he could fight like the devil in hell to do so.

* * *

"So how do we plan on taking out Aglaia?" Pryce asked.

"Taking Aglaia out- now?" The Greek man scoffed. His scarred face showed in the light. Age had not been kind to Metaxas, even though he grew his beard to hide the wound inflicted by none other than King Konstantinos, then a prince seeking to avenge the murders of so many people, not just his own family.

"I'm not stupid and I'm not insane. We can't get that close. Even if there are gaps and holes within her security." He coughed, trying to clear his airway.

"This complicates things. Aglaia…" He paused.

"Well, actually, there might be a way."

* * *

Which was exactly what Robert thought. Aglaia was safe and secure inside the palace, in their own quarters. But they would never be able to draw them out.

"Love," he said urgently. "Do you trust me?"

Aglaia blinked. "Of course I trust you." She stated.

"Then I have a plan to draw out whoever did this," he stated. "And I believe one of them is a former member of the Military Junta, hiding here in Britain. You're safest inside the palace. They know that. They wouldn't dare try to kill you. But once you're out…"

"You mean-" she struggled to sit up. "If the birth came early. Or I was leaving. Or there were complications…"

"Exactly." Robert said. "That's the only way to draw them out. They want you. But I'm going to keep you and our children safe, even if I have to do the craziest things. Aglaia… I need you to fake complications." She nodded wide-eyed.

"Autopsies and blood DNA testing aren't allowed," Robert stated bluntly. "On royals, not unless you had a paternity case like Liam's and Eleanor's. And everyone- including the killers- would be too busy to scan for that. So…" He took a deep breath.

"I need to find an animal."

* * *

"I'm sorry, you want what?"

"Please." Robert said in an undertone. "To draw them out." Rachel looked hesitant, but nodded her head.

"And mention this to no one- not even my mother. I don't want word of this to get out."

Rachel nodded again.

Robert breathed out a sigh.

Later, they got ready. Aglaia looked nervous and somewhat ill as she took the bags of animal blood and poured it over her nightgown, the bedsheets, and all over the floor, where Robert had indicated. He'd left the room.

She felt ill. She clutched her nose. But she had to play the part.

Right on cue, she started screaming as if in pain. Rachel ran out to get Robert and whoever else, shouting it all out.

They instantly came running. Aglaia was screaming, bent double and clutching her abdomen which was covered in blood.

On cue, they ran to get her to the hospital.

* * *

"It's started," Pryce warned Metaxas.

"Very well, then." He answered. "Leave Robert be. Soon, they'll be operating to save those babies. It will be a pity, since Aglaia is clearly having a difficult pregnancy, if she dies of labour complications."

Pryce nodded and then left. Metaxas followed.

They were on their way to the hospital.

* * *

"Sir?" The doctor asked bewildered.

"We're just drawing them out- I've called off security in some areas, but the patients inside will be safe, I give you my word." Robert assured him.

The doctor nodded, still confused.

"I just need to draw them out," Robert said. His dark blue eyes had gone steely.

Alexios stood straight. Aglaia had had complications. He wasn't unaware. This was faked.

* * *

"What's going on?" Liam- back at Willow's place with the others- asked.

"The queen has been taken to hospital, with palace sources stating emergency claims and complications. As it was, throughout this terrible time, our thoughts and prayers go to the queen, the king and the Greek royal family." The TV presenter stated.

"She's in hospital?" Liam breathed.

"And that's where they'll strike," Jasper concluded. He punched his own hand. "They're going to try to kill her there. There's been no time, to plan a thorough security check, a perimeter or anything. This was all done in a hurry. She's vulnerable. They're going to try and kill her there."

"Wha- in the _hospital?"_ Liam's eyes bugged.

"Yeah, come on, we've got to go!" All of them ran towards the car.

Aglaia tried to breathe normally. Just where was Robert? She was terrified for him, for their babies, for her parents, Len and Liam, everybody.

And her brothers… No- she couldn't afford to think about that yet, she'll break down and that was not what they needed right now.

She could hear the doctor and nurses speaking to Helena and Len.

"Well, she's stable right now, your majesty." Helena breathed a sigh of relief.

"Can we see her?" That was Len.

"I'm afraid she needs to rest, your royal highness," the nurse informed her before heading off to speak to the Greek king and queen.

* * *

Pryce was there, in the hospital. She was in a private ward and there was sufficient security, but it looked like his replacement, James Hill was arguing with someone. Apparently he disapproved of the man's conduct. Before long, a scuffle broke out. And soon a Greek security guard confronted them. The first agent, reacting badly, attacked him by punching him repeatedly. Then the Greeks and British guards started brawling while Hill tried to break them up and Ted took advantage of their unprofessionalism to slip inside once the nurses ran out. She didn't even look at him as he slipped inside.

Aglaia was sleeping. For a while Ted hesitated. Three hospital bassinets stood nearby, and it looked, from the silence and the way the three bundles seemed relaxed and covered in blankets, that the new-born triplets were sleeping. For a while, Ted hesitated. This was a mother. Just like Daphne.

But Daphne wasn't there. Daphne wasn't there because of Robert, Helena, Simon and all the rest of them. Daphne would never dress their daughter for her prom dance, or her homecoming, or even for her wedding day. _Helena_ got to hold her grandchildren. Daphne didn't.

Ted's eyes hardened. He raised the knife and prepared to puncture the drip to drain the beloved queen's life to strike a blow to Robert, to the royals, all of them…

Only to find his arm blocked by none other than Jasper Frost.

"You!" Ted was incredulous. He thought all the agents were outside.

Aglaia whirled awake, her eyes wide.

Jasper punched Ted square on the face.

He tried to hit Ted again, but Pryce grabbed an unused bedpan and swung it at Jasper's head, startling him.

Jasper stumbled back onto the bed. He floundered and tried to grab something to get up. But Pryce swung a fire extinguisher at him. He tried to swing at Jasper again, but instead he hit a switch. All the lights went off.

Aglaia gasped, and her hands flew to her belly where the children- still unborn- lay. The dolls in the bassinets were fake. She tried to swing her legs up to protect her belly.

There were loud clattering and clanging sounds being heard. The queen tried to fumble for a bell, when the lights flew open again.

Liam stood at the doorway, along with a girl and- Aglaia's heart jolted- Dimitri. Her own brother Dimitri- still alive.

And looking _exceptionally_ murderous. He drew a gun.

"No!" Aglaia shouted, trying to take cover. The gunshots sounded three times.

But Ted flew aside and it smashed the window instead.

"Enough- Pryce- finish her off!" A Greek-accented voice bellowed. Aglaia's eyes turned towards the noise. A man with a scarred face, barely masked by hi greying beard stood there. Was that-

Dimitri tried to shoot at him. Metaxas bellowed and threw a bassinet- containing a fake baby- at Dimitri whose eyes bugged, apparently not knowing the infants were fake, and tried to catch it. Metaxas raised his gun at Aglaia.

Only for something to hit him instead. He hollered and Willow stood poised, getting ready to throw a compact mirror.

She flung it at Metaxas who snarled and aimed to shoot her, before Dimitri tackled _him._ Just then, to add to all the drama, Alexios burst into the room.

Several bangs went out and quickly, Dimitri had rolled onto his back so that Metaxas' back was facing Alexios who fired those bullets: two at his back, one at his head. His eyes bugged, and Dimitri quickly shoved him off.

"Where's Pryce!" Jasper shouted, shoving a hospital tray off of him.

The door was open. And of course, due to Robert's plan, there was no security left.

He and Liam raced out the door.

* * *

Pryce ran for it. _Shit._ Metaxas had really bungled it in his quest for revenge. He ran upstairs- knowing that all the security would be heavy downstairs and ended- classic scene- on the roof.

"Hello Ted," a smooth voice stated.

Robert's dark blue eyes were flashing.

"Come here to kill my wife and children?" He asked quietly. "You know I never knew _your_ wife. Or your daughter whom you used to shag Liam to keep him occupied while you murdered my father. But it was funny how you hijacked my plane to try to avenge her." His eyes glinted. "And especially funny how you murdered my father and then tried to murder my wife and her brothers to get even. I doubt that my mother would have felt as affected as hers was. But forming an alliance to a man who may be considered a bit of a neo-Nazi? I could hardly believe you at all, Ted. That's a new low, even for you."

Ted narrowed his eyes. "Are you here to monologue and lecture me, like all members of your station on betrayal and doing duty to the country, because let me tell you something, Robert; you don't give a damn. I know none of you don't. Cyrus was the one who had Jeffrey Stewart killed, the brother of your father's former fiancée who died in an accident orchestrated by your grandmother, just so her daughter Helena could become queen. How many families have you destroyed? Or do you really only care about your one, like all the rest?"

Robert's eyes narrowed, just as Liam burst forwards.

"Stop." He said immediately. He raised a gun. "Stop right there."

"You've already tried this before, Liam." Ted said calmly. "You can't do it."

"I will this time," Liam was shaking in rage. "I swear I will."

"No you won't." Ted said, still calm. "You wear a uniform, but like the Greek princes said, it's all just dress-up. None of you ever had the courage to love anybody but yourselves and that gilded chair and jewelled hat. Or maybe you. But you don't have what it takes to rule. You don't even have what it takes to pull a trigger and save more."

"No," Robert interrupted, nearly making Liam bolt. "But I do."

He raised his gun. And shot Ted Pryce.

Down he fell, down before crashing into an ambulance.

Robert breathed deeply. "Let's go." He grabbed his brother's arm and both of them headed back down.

* * *

Aglaia gasped. "How- how did you-" "Sshhh." That was Dimitri. He stroked her hair. Alexios kissed her forehead.

"The babies?" His wild eyes lay on the fallen bassinet. "They're fake," Aglaia explained, before a sharp pain ripped through her abdomen. _"Ah."_

She looked at Willow. "Thank you," she said so sincerely, that Willow looked somewhat embarrassed. "My pleasure," she said quietly. But the pain started to grip Aglaia again. _"Ahhh."_ She moaned, clutching her belly.

Jasper popped back up. "Where's Liam?" He asked breathlessly.

"Where were you?" Alexios demanded. "Her security detail-" Just then Robert strode in, followed by some doctors and nurses. "Alexios," he stated. "Dimitri." He did not at all look surprised.

Robert pressed something to Alexios' hand. It was a GPS tracking dot, found on Liam's jacket which was how Dimitri managed to find Liam so quickly. In fact, there was something else as well. An electronic bug which Alexios installed right before the wedding.

"In the future, I'd prefer if you not bug our rooms," Robert said in an undertone. "Just leave her security to me. After all, Pryce is dead. I've been onto him for months." Alexios' eyes bugged. "You told me that your known enemies were dead."

"Or so I thought." Robert looked at him. Aglaia was taking sips from a glass. "But we both know that without actual proof, such as dead bodies, no one can truly be counted among the dead." He gave him a long look, while Alexios, stunned, tried to process this and Robert immediately went over to his wife's side. "And besides, did you really expect me to kill my uncle just to be certain? Although admittedly, for Aglaia, I would have done anything."

Aglaia moaned sharply as the pains hit her more. "It's time," she breathed. "I think- _ah!"_

"Alright, time to get her to surgery," the doctor ordered. Aglaia tried to breathe deeply.

Robert went with her. Alexios' eyes were wide with shock.

* * *

Aglaia never imagined it could be so much pain. Of course she knew, but this much? Never.

She moaned as a spasm hit her. Robert held her up, causing her to lean back against her, holding her in his arms, and kissing her forehead.

She cried out.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered in her ear. "It's going to be okay."

The pain ripped her, it was like tearing her insides open. She screamed.

"Hang on." Robert stated as the babies grew restless.

Aglaia tried to breathe deeply. A whimper escaped her. After that much drama… At least her brothers were alive, but right now, she couldn't focus on anything other than the pain and the oncoming children.

She cried out.

Robert shushed her soothingly, like she would sometimes soothe his foul moods. He would never let her go- never.

Aglaia hissed in a breath. And this night had just begun.

* * *

Helena and Eleanor went up to the surgery room.

"What's going on there?" Helena demanded. "Why were there guns- and crashing?"

The doctor tried to placate them. "The queen is in labour." They absorbed this in silence.

"Yes, but what-"

"Do _you_ care?" Anastasia asked, harshly. "Let me in," she demanded the doctors. "Anastasia," her husband said warningly. "That's my _daughter_ giving birth, I demand to be allowed-"

"You don't demand anything, you crazy bitch!" Helena hissed. "She's in labour and she doesn't need you charging in and controlling her private life!"

"And you don't order me or teach me how to raise my children," Anastasia hissed back. "As I recall all three of mine turned out right as compared to one of yours."

"You-" Helena's stormy blue eyes bugged.

"I may not have been the best mother," Helena breathed. "Or the best queen."

"Or the best wife," Anastasia put in sardonically.

"Or the best anything, as a matter of fact." Helena spat. "But I would fight to the death to keep my family alive."

"And your country?" Anastasia sneered. "Don't lecture me. What do _you_ know of love? What do _any_ of you know about love? You're fighting within your own family for a crown. Most of mine died because we carried royal blood in our veins. We had to watch our people being slaughtered. Tell me, would you have fought to save a dying child being shot at by a machine gun in the street, even if it puts you at risk? Or is all your charity just for show?"

Helena's eyes widened, but then Aglaia's scream ripped through the air. The doctors and surgeons were going crazy.

"Enough." That was Alexios. Anastasia gasped. And Dimitri.

"Alexios," Anastasia breathed. "Dimitri."

"How is she?"

Liam reappeared. "Liam!" Eleanor blurted.

"Our sister is in labour, can we argue about this later?" Alexios snapped.

A scream ripped through the air again.

* * *

Aglaia had never experienced so much pain. She was moaning. She thought she would die.

Well, what a way to go, she thought sarcastically. And what a night.

She gritted her teeth and gripped the sheets but she still cried out.

"Hang on, your majesty," one doctor said.

Easy for _him_ to say.

Robert pressed a kiss to her forehead and wiped her brow.

The first of the babies was born. It was a strong, healthy, screaming boy. He was covered in blood and mucus, screaming and roaring his tiny lungs out and waving his tiny fists and legs, but he was beautiful. Immediately he was passed to Robert after his nose and mouth was sucked clean and the cord was cut before he was marked with a red thread around his wrist to mark him as the firstborn and passed to get cleaned.

Robert's face was full of love, pride and joy beyond comparison. Unless you were ever there before, then you would never know the feeling. Aglaia screamed again and soon the second child was born. Another boy.

He yowled, covered in blood and mucus, like his brother and his cord was cut as well. It was three minutes before the third child was born.

A girl.

The little princess screamed and squealed as she was lifted into the air. Robert's eyes brightened and shone with so much joy and love as he beheld the little girl- _his_ precious little girl. The two boys had their father's rich brown hair with strong hints of gold and his dark, stormy-blue eyes, but the little girl's eyes were almond, large, liquid and emerald, like her mother's and her hair was a very deep black. She was a very beautiful baby. And he knew exactly who she would grow up to look like.

They had triumphed.

The children would currently be fourth, fifth and sixth in line for the Greek throne, and first, second and third for the British.

Robert bent down to kiss his wife, and she marvelled in awe and limitless, powerful love, her eyes filled with tears, as she looked down at the infant who squeaked and held out a tiny fist. Both parents laughed and smiled in joy and awe of the little lives there.

Robert got his way. Pryce was dead by his own hand- just what he wanted. Aglaia would stay and remain his queen. And his three children would be first, second and third in line for the succession.

Everything was perfect.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: No-** _ **E!**_ **owns the** _ **Royals**_ **. I don't own them.**

* * *

 **To Brookeworm3: Thank you! I'm afraid this chapter will be a bit more mellow, but the drama hasn't ended!**

 **To** **Superdani4Ever** **: Yeah, they do need a reality clash before the monarch ends up beheaded (like one English king and one French one- or shot). Yes, there will be more flashbacks. The drama is crazy but they managed to keep a tight lid on the worst of things. As for Willow- she is such an underrated character, but she's** _ **waaayy**_ **smarter, more interesting and compelling than Liam's girls, like Ophelia, Gemma (who was a gold-digger and social climber) and Kathryn. Max Brown- who plays Robert- actually played a spy in MI5 or Spooks called Dimitri Levendis! Len's going to be godmother, and Liam's going to be godfather, but they'll be sharing (royal babies have** _ **so**_ **many godparents!), Jasper is outstanding. So is Robert. Hopefully we've seen the last of Pryce and no- Aglaia's brothers and mother didn't bug the bedroom- only the surrounding area but I can't promise nothing happened there! And for once, Helena was right.**

* * *

 **Doubt thou the Stars are Fire... Doubt Truth to be a Liar. But Never Doubt I Love**

The babies cooed or slept peacefully. The joy and love in Robert's eyes had no limits as he looked at the three of them and his wife. He gently stroked the tiniest one- his little girl's hair. She cooed and her tiny, _tiny_ hand reached out towards him. Her skin, softer than rose petals gently grazed his, and an overwhelming wealth of love and tenderness could not be described. Gently, he picked her up.

"Support her head," Aglaia said softly, with the same tenderness and love in her eyes. Robert did just that and the baby cooed at him again. He gave the little girl- his own daughter- a kiss.

She squeaked and her father laughed softly in adoration and awe.

Aglaia exhaled and leaned back. Robert's eyes were shining and so were Aglaia's. "They're so beautiful- they're perfect." He whispered. The baby's skin was so soft. And even though she was so tiny- the tiniest of the three- she fit so well and seemed so comfortable in his arms, holding onto his finger like that, that Robert couldn't help but think he would kill or die in the worst ways possible, repeatedly, or massacre anyone who tried to harm her. That brought a dark look back to his face.

"Metaxas is dead." He said quietly.

Aglaia straightened and looked back at him. "That was _Metaxas?"_ She breathed. _Argus Metaxas?!_

He looked grimly. "Your brothers killed him, I dealt with Ted Pryce."

"Ted Pryce- he was the one in my hospital room?" Aglaia stated in shock.

The fury in Robert's eyes was unmistakable. He sighed, and it all cleared. "Aglaia, you shouldn't worry about this right now," he said quietly. He kissed her forehead. "We have three unbelievably priceless, beautiful children. And they're _safe."_

For now. But that went unspoken between the two of them.

"Where are the rest of the family?" Aglaia asked.

She was rather enjoying their very private time, but she knew they had a right to see the children soon.

Robert gave a small smile. He kissed the baby one more time, cradling her gently. He would try not to have favourites, but this little one had him wrapped around her tiny finger.

The baby looked at him with emerald-hued eyes, so like her mother; another ocean-eyed beauty.

"They're waiting to come in." He said quietly.

Aglaia sighed, enjoying their peace and solitude, but also needing to see their family. "What are we going to call them?"

Robert frowned. "Good question."

It had been some time since they began discussing names.

Aglaia laughed softly. "Well…. Let's start with the eldest. I'd suggest Edward but he doesn't suit that. I don't think Henry will do-"

"No Henry IX, please." Robert remarked, rolling his eyes. Number eight was bad enough. The rest were also big trouble- first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh. Very different but turbulent reigns had happened during kings named Henry.

"Simon would be my first choice, but apparently, that was taken by your cousin- your Uncle Cyrus' baby with Prudence- that's what your mother told me." Her tone darkened as she remembered that conversation. "What about William Simon?" She asked. "Will for short. Another king named William? William Simon Alexander Constantine- my father's anglicised name and my brother's along with your father's and brother's?" She smiled. "Liam is short for William, isn't it?"

Robert froze temporarily, but then placed a very warm smile. "Of course," he stated. "Why not?"

"And our second boy." She gazed adoringly at him and his brother sleeping in their hospital bassinets. "Andrew Dimitri Edward … What's the fourth name?"

Most royalty typically had four names- though that varied. Robert paused, thinking.

"Give him a Greek name- your grandfather was…" "Philippos- Philip," she said slowly. Robert smiled and nodded. "But put Philip before Edward," he suggested. "It just sounds right."

"And our girl?" Her smile made the whole room shine.

Robert grinned at the tiny miracle squeaking in his arms. "That's going to be a difficult one."

"Well, the third and fourth names can be Anastasia and Helene- you know Eleanor and Helena are variants of the same name- Helénē, borne by Helen of Troy."

"Who apparently was you in another life," Robert remarked. She rolled her eyes. "So I think Helene could be a middle name to honour both. Anastasia is the third name and Helene can be the last. The second…" She paused.

"Sophia," Robert said quietly. "As for the first… Does Katherine sound good to you?"

"But so many people are named Katherine." Even though she liked the name, she wanted something unique for her daughter.

"Good point," he muttered. "Go for a name with Greek origins," he suggested.

"Not Agatha," she interrupted. "No, definitely not Agatha." He laughed.

She straightened all of a sudden. "Selena." He looked at her. "Selene was a moon goddess' name. I think I like the name Selena." Like the light in a very dark night which she was.

Robert grinned. "Selena Sophia Anastasia Helene. That sounds great." And they were definitely Henstridges. God save them all.

* * *

The other royals stood waiting outside.

Anastasia and Konstantinos had been very emotionally- though privately- reunited with their sons.

The doctor finally admitted them through.

Helena stood in the doorway as everyone else came in. Selena and Andrew were in their mother's arms but as per tradition, William Simon was in his father's.

"Your majesties," he said formally. Robert presented the first. "This is William Simon Alexander Constantine." He stated. He showed the boy, who seemed to tolerate everything with distaste, to his in-laws and mother.

Anastasia cooed, and Len smiled with tears shimmering in her eyes. Jasper was with her. "William… Because it's a good name and because his uncle's name is Liam." Liam stared at him, his jaw dropping. Robert smirked. "Simon is his late grandfather's, Alexander is his other uncle's name just anglicised and Constantine is his maternal grandfather's."

The baby would have been named Simon first if Cyrus hadn't spoiled it for them.

Robert looked at his mother. She was gaping, staring at the baby with undisguised astonishment.

"Mum," he said quietly.

Helena gave a small, hesitant smile, wet with tears and moved forwards.

Robert looked back at Aglaia and the younger babies.

"Here," he said softly and gently. He guided them to where Aglaia was lying.

Very carefully handing her Will to hold, Robert gently picked up Andrew.

"This is Andrew Dimitri Philip Edward," he said quietly with enormous pride. "Our precious son." He kissed him on the baby's head. The infant cooed and stirred but did not wake up. Dimitri's eyes widened and he gave a cheerful grin. Giving the baby back to his mother, Robert picked up Selena.

"And this is Selena Sophia Anastasia Helene." He said quietly.

"Selena… Because her mother and I like that name, Sophia…" He looked at her. "It means wisdom and goodness knows we're going to need a lot of that. Anastasia for her grandmother and Helene for her other grandmother-" he smiled at Helena. "And her Aunt Eleanor. They're variants of the same name." He smiled happily at Eleanor who looked like she was battling tears.

"May I?" She gestured. He very carefully distributed the babies among the relatives- praying that they weren't careless enough to drop them or anything.

Robert heaved out a sigh.

* * *

The babies' birth was announced the following morning- along with the deaths of Argus Metaxas- whom people had been horrified and alarmed had managed to enter the hospital and Ted Pryce- again the shock and horror that ensued that the late king's killer had escaped the clutches of the mob that tried to tear him to pieces.

And the survival of the Greek Crown Prince/Prince of Sparta Alexandros 'Alexios' and Prince of Thebes, Dimitri.

The body of 'Aristotle Anastos' was matched with various DNA that had been sent over with the permission of the Greek government, which belonged to Argus Metaxas. Now the civilian, non-royal organisation in Greece, had taken it among themselves to up the stakes in hunting down old Military Junta members and supporters after what had nearly happened to their princess and her babies. The DNA were- of course- perfect matches and Metaxas was given Greek Orthodox funeral rites aboard a ship where he was promptly buried at sea like Bin Laden. The country of the Hellenes did not want his cursed remains anywhere near them. And neither did Britain.

Ted Pryce's body was handed over to his remaining relatives who cremated and scattered his ashes. His daughter Ophelia did not return to Britain.

The Greek government and Ministerial Council recognised the existence and survival of the Greek Princes Alexios and Dimitri and the children were thus, as of that moment, fourth, fifth and sixth in line for the Greek throne.

Crown Prince Alexios got engaged to his girlfriend who was beyond overjoyed and in tears that he survived. Dimitri _might_ \- emphasis on ' _might'_ \- be looking to settle down as well after seeing his sister so happy with her husband and children.

* * *

Cyrus drank brandy straight from the decanter. He did not bother opening the damned thing and pouring himself a glass.

"So they pulled a Robert and survived after all," he said sourly. "What is it with these people? Back in the day, when you died, you had the decency to _stay_ dead, not come back to ruin everything once you've gotten over it all."

He gulped the brandy down.

"Hello Uncle." A voice interrupted his musings.

Cyrus swallowed the alcohol. "Oh, your majesty. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He slurred.

Robert stepped out of the shadows. "Uncle Cyrus." He stated. "If it's a pleasure, then why are you drinking so much?"

"Perhaps I'm toasting the health of the new-born princes and princess- of England. Cause that's where they'll be staying, isn't it? _England?"_ He gulped more brandy.

"It's a pity. I thought I would see more of that Malmsey Wine that the Greeks brought over for us if I have grand-nephews and a grand-niece in Greece, but, hey, I suppose, you can't have everything?" He snickered. "Or nothing." He remarked.

"I'm sure that you'll be able to get all the Malmsey you need," Robert said quietly. "George Duke of Clarence switched sides and fought for the Lancasters. Eventually he turned back but plotted against his own brother- and Richard III- or their brother Edward IV- had him drowned in a butt of Malmsey Wine- because he loved it so much. I wonder, _Uncle,_ if you would have fanned the flames for another War of the Roses- or rather, Cousins' War as it was known then?" Robert moved over to where Cyrus could see him better.

Cyrus stared at him blankly.

"I'm sorry about Violet," Robert said, his voice still deadly-quiet. "And Prudence and her baby. But Prudence really didn't want to conceive that baby, did she?"

Cyrus took another swig. "High treason equals the murder of the then-king's brother." He stated.

"So you blackmailed her into having sex," Robert said. "And before that you threatened to fire her- and she couldn't survive on benefits alone."

"Maybe she could have if you'd had met that Greek goddess sooner." Cyrus remarked, taking another swill.

"And she tried to poison you." Robert said in a low voice. "After which you caught her during one of your drunken orgies-" "To stop the monarchy from being disbanded, you know your mother had one too."

"I know what my mother's done," Robert said in that same, threatening, yet unpredictable tone. "I know what my mother, my brother, my sister, father and uncle have all done now. Good things and bad. I know about my grandmother's doings too. I've placed her under House Arrest."

Cyrus barely managed to swallow the liquor. _"You?"_ He asked incredulously. "You placed your own grandmother, whom you called Duchie, under House Arrest?"

"Tell me uncle, have you ever loved anybody?" Robert interrupted. "Apart from yourself? Your remarried wife, your two daughters whom you sired, yet always called the half-wits? Your girlfriend, your son's mother, or even your son, or were they ever extensions of yourself in order to prove useful? Or even soothing to that hollow place inside of you?" Cyrus paused, wondering where Robert was getting to. "At any point in your life, did you even love your own brother, Simon? Or did you name your son after him to appease the masses once they were supposed to hear about it?"

A muscle in Cyrus' jaw twitched.

"Jeffrey Stewart," Robert said calmly. "Ted Pryce knew about him. And he also knew what happened to him. I suppose I should thank you for eliminating the maniac, uncle. But with the support and backing of the Greek, Danish and other royal families, whom, might I add, Aglaia is a favourite relative of, I daresay that people would be foolish to try. Especially as she has the favour of the people. And so will our children."

Cyrus was silent and then smirked.

"Have a good day, Uncle." Robert said quietly, turning round and heading for the door. "And by the way- there's a bottle of Malvasia, or Malmsey just waiting for you right there." Robert gestured to Cyrus' desk littered with carafes.

"It's not poisoned." Robert called, without looking back as he walked out.

Cyrus went over to the bottle. Stuck to it was the royal monogram of Robert and Aglaia- R and A entwined in elegant cursive surrounded by an H. Aglaia was a Henstridge now, a fact that must have driven her mother to break down in tears, along with more than half the mothers in Greece.

On the other side, however, printed upon the card was the Sun-star of Vergina- the royal crest of Greece. The paper itself smelled expensive. Like… Caviar? Cyrus sniffed. That must have come from somewhere. The Malvasia or Malmsey Wine itself was outstanding but he could have sworn the paper was Danish.

And there was a message:

 _We know about Jeffrey Stewart. We all do. And you know them all too- including Ted Pryce and Argus Metaxas._

And there was a royal monogram barely seen in the corner as well. One that he was not obviously familiar with, but as it wasn't a Henstridge monogram or a Greek royal one (they used the Greek alphabet) he could easily tell it came from another foreign royal house. Possibly Danish or Swedish. Possibly Belgian or Dutch. He didn't know.

So Robert's royal monogram entwined with Aglaia's surrounded by an H for Henstridge meant that he made it quite clear: Aglaia was staying. She was now _his._ Undisputedly. And Queen of the U.K.

And the Greek royal crest- obviously the king and queen's doing. Telling him they were behind the British royal couple if not just their daughter and grandchildren. The Danish paper and the unknown, foreign royal monogram clearly meant that others were standing behind them. They knew about Jeffrey Stewart's death. And now they wanted him to know too.

Cyrus uncorked the bottle and gulped its contents, desperately wishing it _was_ poison.

A much quicker and less painful way to go.

* * *

Liam found Robert in one of the nurseries. The babies had settled in though they had yet to be presented to the public. After their birth's crazy events it was best to give them some private time.

"Hey," Liam said quietly.

Robert looked up from the three infants. "Hey," he said quietly. His eyes were soft and shining, very tender and more joyful than Liam had ever recalled his brother ever being.

Liam smiled. "You're a dad now."

Robert's eyes glowed as he looked at the infants. "Yeah," he said softly but laughed as well. "I can hardly believe it. I didn't think this would happen." He looked at Liam. "Were you alright?" He asked.

"Me?" Liam was befuddled. "I'm fine." Robert didn't believe him. "I mean, I did get framed for murder by dad's killer and I just found out that a genocidal maniac was trying to get at us but you know, all in a day's work." Robert chuckled.

"Thank you," Liam said. "For naming your firstborn after me- and Dad." Robert smiled and chortled. "Well, I wouldn't have named him any other way. One day there'll be a king named William at least on the throne." That was Liam's full name. "You're a great man, Liam." Robert said quietly. "Unlike me." Liam looked incredulous.

"What are you talking about?" Unlike Liam, Robert had always been classified as a great man- undisputedly.

"But unlike me, you don't need a crown to do just that," Robert said quietly. "Aglaia was right. You're not just the spare heir. You are far, _far_ more than that, more than anyone could have ever imagined. Not even me, or Dad. And if you want proof, look at all that you've accomplished and you've only just begun. Somehow, I know you'll do even greater things than the royal history books said: greater than conquering empires on horseback on naval warfare. Because unlike so many people, Liam, you're making your own way. You're choosing your own path, you and Len. And you've already decided to choose your own country. Britain is blessed- even more than I could have imagined- with you here. Your life is not a pointless existence of parties, drinking and girls. It means something. And that is why we both wanted you to be godfather to our son. If you could teach him even just a little, he would be the greatest king Britain has ever had, because he has the greatest man directly by his side."

Liam was silent as he gazed up at Robert.

"And the same goes for the three of them." Robert said, breaking the silence. "One day these three are going to grow up. They're going to get out there and make their own world. And goodness knows," Robert laughed nervously. "They're going to be teenagers first. They're going to study for tests, they're going to make friends and break up with them, and girlfriends and boyfriends just the same. And the littlest one-" Robert shook his head. "She actually _looks_ like her mother. She's going to attract far more attention than I would like. And the boys are going to try to get to her." He laughed again, shaking his head more. "She's going to be hurt. They're all going to be hurt. They're all going to be broken. And they're all going to fall down. And I admit Liam, king or no king, I'm terrified. Far more terrified than I ever thought I'd be when it comes to parenting."

Liam smiled and touched his brother's arm. "But that's what everybody does. They fall, and they get back up."

"None more spectacularly than you," Robert said quietly, looking at Liam. "So that's why I'm glad, more than anything that you'll show them how it's done. We're truly lucky to have you, brother."

Liam smiled and the brothers pulled each other into an embrace.

* * *

Aglaia looked about the second nursery. It was decided that the babies would sleep in separate rooms. If one of them started crying, the likely chances were that the other two would start screaming as well and at night time they would all need a rest. She also designed them all and the collective playroom or 'day nursery' as well.

The nursery for Andrew was mint green with ebony furniture, including a rich and elegant crib with curved detailing, a diaper changing table with drawers and a side table piled with linen diapers, safety pins (the nannies preferred those) baby oil and powder, baby rash ointment, bottles, dummies (or pacifiers) baby shampoo, soap, lotion and numerous other things. A baby bath stood at the ready and an elegantly carved rocking chair with rich details. There were tree motifs that she had worked on with Eleanor and Robert, carved and gilded with leaves a deeper green than the walls and edged with gold, painstakingly hand-painted along with numerous fantastic and richly decorated animals dancing under their roots both painted and embossed with pieces of recycled wood and paper. The room looked like a master craftsman had done it himself. There were prams and strollers, numerous soft toys piled on a shelf, a teething ring which stood safely in a box, soft blankets, baby formula once he had been weaned at the top shelf, baby blankets at the bottom shelf, baby books and a mobile; a tasteful shower of golden-green leaves and birds fluttering amongst them, hanging above the bassinet.

Aglaia sighed. She kissed Andrew adoringly and shifted him so he could see the nursery better. "Welcome home." She smiled lovingly at her second boy.

And it was going to be a home. Whether it was a palace or a hut, it was a home if it had _family._ And that was what they were. They had made this nursery and the others, themselves, much to Helena's and the staff's bewilderment. And even Anastasia was surprised, but Konstantinos understood and she had a feeling that the children's other grandfather would have loved it as well.

They were making a home.

She handed touched the stuffed bear lovingly and noted that she did get the carpets she wanted for the babies- in different shades. But they were all so gloriously deep and soft, fluffy enough to prevent serious accidents. Pale green in this room, beige in Will's and pinkish-white in Selena's.

"Time to get you settled," Aglaia whispered to her baby, gently placing him in the bassinet. He squirmed but began to fuss.

Aglaia sighed. There was hand sanitizer and baby wipes at the shelf or changing table. As new-born babies' immune system were not that developed yet, Aglaia had to be extra careful. Careful to make sure that no one would disturb her, she carefully fed him, while gently supporting his head and neck and stroking him. Babies, especially premature babies, responded very well to infant massages, and stroking them in gentle circles and various patterns would also stimulate bonding with them, as well as holding them against her skin. It soothed them and Andrew at this moment, chose to clutch his mother's finger closely. She smiled with great love in her eyes. Parents, she realised. You never know how much they love you until you're holding a baby of your own.

Metaxas disturbed her. The idea that a member of the former Military Junta could have such ideas of revenge and be living in close proximity towards them… She knew she shouldn't think about it, but as she tilted Andrew upwards to spew off excess milk over her shoulder, she remembered how he had knocked down the hospital bassinets with the fake babies inside of them. A cold chill ran to her. Of course he would. He tried to kill her as a baby. Many of the ones that died were children. Starvation, poor hygiene and disease, imprisonment, execution and torture… Children were no exception.

Aglaia shook her head and patted Andrew on the back repeatedly. Once that was done, she made sure that his mouth and nose were unblocked and cleaned. He didn't need a change just yet. She wiped his face with a baby wipe.

The baby monitor was also there, which was personalised (thank God for those geniuses she called security guards) and would alert her, the nannies, or even Robert who insisted on getting one.

"Get some sleep, Little One," she murmured, kissing him gently. "I have to check on your brother and sister." She rocked him gently singing a song before carefully placing him in the bassinet and tucking him in.

Will was in his own nursery. He looked bored, there was no other description. He had been sulky the whole time.

To Aglaia's surprise, guess who else was there? That's right, her mother.

Unfortunately, Helena was there as well. The two queens- one now a queen mother- was having a stand-off.

"I don't know what game you're playing not allowing me to be alone with my own grandchildren," Helena hissed. "Do you think I would _smother_ them in their cribs?"

Her mother scoffed. "I don't know what to think about you," she drawled. "No one does outside of this country. Scandal is the very least of it. Dead bodies keep dropping like flies around this palace and I see your useless brother-in-law, the former king, is still living here with his remarried wife and their two _idiot_ daughters."

Aglaia closed her eyes in despair.

"I have the backing of more than half the monarchies in the world and their respective governments," Anastasia hissed. "Perhaps if things weren't quite so alarming and your family didn't fight each other for a fancy chair and a jewelled hat- and no, we're not fooled by your public appearances and media interviews- things would be less alarming and we would have less cause for concern over my daughter and children's security." She and Helena glared at each other.

"Diplomatic Immunity or not," Anastasia began dangerously. "We could take legal action if we have to. No one needs to step down from the throne, now that your son's on it and my daughter is beside him. If I have to get the backing of the United Nations- and oh, boy, would it be easy to get their help- make no mistake they'll be there. And you'll be _out."_

Helena's eyes widened in incredulous rage.

"You-" She began furiously. "Are a bunch of people with no support," Anastasia scoffed. "Do you really think they'll support you? I know about Dominique Stewart, Violet, Prudence and Baby Simon, Jeffrey Stewart and all the rest of them. Imagine if anyone were to hear about them. Some… Politicians, perhaps, Hmm? How did you manage to cover so much from the media, I'll never know. Cyrus may get the biggest trouble, but it would be a serious shame and disgrace upon Britain's royal family- including my three grandchildren- if such scandal were to publicly reveal itself to the world. We're not the only ones who know. The reason everyone keeps quiet now is because out of respect for your late husband, your firstborn, my daughter and now the three babies, including this one who will one day inherit and continue a dynasty." She kissed baby Will who squirmed in his blanket, sensing the hostility between his two grandmothers. "And the other two, who will not be neglected and left to run wild, but will have a purpose, a point in their lives."

Aglaia had had enough. She stepped forwards. "I was checking up on the babies." She stated. The two of them spun around towards her.

Aglaia looked disappointed. "Please." She held out her arms.

"The nannies are currently busy at the moment," she said. "They'll be in here soon. There are some refreshments should you require any." She checked Will over. It had been some time since he was fed. He needed to eat.

"Now, if you will excuse me," she stated, heading for the rocking chair. "I think he's about to get hungry." Sure enough, the future king of the UK let out a cry (clever boy, it sounded like it was more of a distraction to get his grandmothers to leave than hunger) and Aglaia began to feed him.

Both grandmothers left. She promptly closed her eyes, stroking Will gently and holding him close. _"Why,_ Will?" She sighed. "Why can't we just get along? Why do things have to be so complicated?"

Aglaia looked around the nursery. If there was one thing the two agreed on, it was that this baby would be a future king. The nursery for the firstborn was a sweet blue shade with exquisite lion and lamb paintings designed to give him an idea of what he was supposed to be like one day. Soft clouds were painted above and creatures; angels and airy sylphs along with others, soft birds and so forth decorated the place. They were frescoes, or murals, not wallpaper. Robert had insisted on painting them himself. He said he had wanted to do something for his children, like a regular father. He wanted to take part in this.

 _Oh, Robert._ She thought. _How much do you have to give any of us, including me? When I first arrived to England, this was a foreign country and this palace, a gilded box. You did everything to make it my home._

And she felt bad now. For getting upset with him for giving in so they had to stay in the palace and not Clarence House.

"This world… Is not perfect," she admitted, looking down at Will silently. His eyes were a deep, rich blue. "This family… Is _insane._ Everything's crazy." She looked down at Will. "And you'll be expected to put things right. Well, no one can solve everything. But we can help each other out. The most important thing is, even when we're gone, Will, you're not alone." She said to him lovingly. "We all love you so much, future king or not. And I know one way or another, you'll do great."

Helena and her mother had one thing in common: exquisite taste, Aglaia thought. The furniture was richly carved and gilded. The changing table, set of drawers, wardrobe and bassinet was covered in gilt, safely coated on top. They appeared gold at a close view, and silver at a distance, so she really wasn't sure where her mother picked those out. The crib was carved with ornate motifs and animals standing guard. The lion and the lamb. There were stuffed lions and lambs, including one that could be ridden as well. The drapes were beige with blue short tassels.

Aglaia's eyes narrowed. Goodness knows how they managed to agree with this, she thought. They still loathed each other. Her mother had blamed Helena and the Hesnstridges- apart from Robert- for her sons' 'deaths'. And she still had not apologised, nor was she about to.

After burping and cleaning the baby's face, nose and mouth, she laid him back in his bassinet, twitching the mobile of terns, doves and clouds at him. He gurgled and she smiled.

"Go to sleep, my love." She rocked it and hummed a lullaby, before deciding to check on Selena- Baby No. 3.

Robert was with Selena, much to her surprise. And Eleanor.

And he was bottle-feeding her. She was quiet, content, comfortable and happy in her father's arms. Eleanor was watching and fluffing the cushions on the window seat, arranging the soft toys. Aglaia smiled.

 _Well there's something to cheer up about,_ she thought.

"How is she?" She asked walking forwards.

Robert smiled. "She's happy." He said quietly. The baby's fingers were wrapped tightly around one of his. Her emerald eyes peered deep into his own.

"I hope she isn't your favourite," Aglaia said dryly.

Robert scoffed. "Good parents don't have favourites."

"That's right." Aglaia stated. She looked around the nursery. The walls were in a very pale shade of pink, almost ivory bordered with gold. Pink and ivory sheers and heavy drapes with golden tassels designed to go high out of the reach of babies. The carpet, gloriously soft, deep and luxurious was white tinged with pink. There was a hobby horse, white-painted gold-bordered toy box, shelves full of soft toys and fluffy stars, a Bordeaux-panel, upholstered crib, gilded like her brother's, beribboned and canopied. There were essentially the same things: a changing table, set of drawers and wardrobe full of the same stuff that babies need, a bassinet with a mobile of stars and a smiling moon and fairies as well as a small table with large stuffed animals and a tea set.

 _Is this because she's a girl?_ Aglaia thought dryly. She herself had been spoiled compared to her brothers who weren't allowed to get away with the things she did, and she guessed so was Eleanor. And clearly she had Robert wrapped around her little finger

And now look at them: Robert the eldest of two boys and a girl, Aglaia the youngest of two boys and a girl, they had their own brood: two boys and a girl in one go.

She laughed. "So she's being fed. Has she been changed before she came here?"

"Yup." Len brightened. "Robbie did it himself."

Aglaia blinked. "You changed her?" She asked in surprise.

"Of course," Robert sounded almost hurt and taken aback. "I'm her father. I did it the way you showed me."

"Front to back?" Aglaia asked dryly.

"Front to back, to avoid infection," he stated. "And for the boys, not to wipe them while they're in the air. I got this." He assured her.

Aglaia smiled, looking amused.

"How'd you learn so much about babies- like to care for them?" Len asked.

"I had experience overseas. Sometimes, I acted as an assistant midwife. I definitely helped care for them in orphanages." She said quietly. "Particularly during their first days and weeks. I miss them. Of course I was always surrounded by security- which I hated- but they always managed to blend in and never disrupted me. Sometimes they even helped." She said dryly.

Robert chuckled. Baby Selena finished feeding. "Right." Aglaia said softly. She held out her arms but Robert pulled back. "I got this," he admonished.

She laughed. "The king of Britain. I thought you'd be busy."

"Dad was never too busy for any of us," Robert said softly. He looked at Len. "I remember him with Liam and Leni. He was always there, when they started to crawl and walk, when they cried. He fed and changed them." Eleanor smiled. "I never knew that," she whispered. It was a bittersweet thing for her. She and her dad had not parted on good terms. And she never got the chance to make him proud.

"I wish he was here," Eleanor said quietly. "He would have really loved you," she said, looking at Aglaia. "And he would have loved nothing more than to see the babies- and the two of you so happy."

Robert was silent. Aglaia looked down. "I wish he was here as well." She sighed. "We'll just have to keep his memory alive, won't we?" She asked.

Robert looked at his daughter. She managed to get out the excess milk. "Here." Aglaia insisted, and this time, he gave the baby to her and she gently cleaned the baby's face, nose and mouth.

"Can you… Can you teach me?" Eleanor asked hesitantly. Aglaia looked at her in surprise. "Teach you what?"

"How to care for children," Eleanor put in hopefully. Aglaia looked surprised.

Robert laughed. "Little sis! Don't tell me you're planning on having one so soon."

Eleanor immediately denied this. "N- no- I- I just wanted to learn. How to be a good godmother." She looked at Aglaia. "Well, if that's what you'd like," Aglaia said quietly. She smiled. "Of course. I'd love nothing more." Eleanor beamed happily. "Thank you." She hugged Aglaia.

"The Christening is… Well, it's coming soon. I was planning to carry one baby or twins to the Christening but I think with three we may need a pram." Aglaia said hesitantly. "A large, old-fashioned style pram. And three Christening gowns." She frowned. "I'd better get started. Len would you-" she hesitated. Len beamed and eagerly nodded. Aglaia headed for the rocking chair and began singing the baby to sleep.

* * *

The playroom or day nursery was a sizeable room where the children were meant to play and spend the day there- eating and learning with each other and their nannies unless they went outside once they were big enough. It wasn't as complete as the night nurseries as they had not yet agreed on what theme and had been occupied with all the crazy drama.

Aglaia's mother was there, scowling as she unpacked all the boxes full of baby clothes and numerous gifts sent by their relatives, including other royals.

"That- that," she began fuming. Aglaia's father sighed. "Anastasia, don't you think you're taking this to another level entirely?" He asked, finally impatient. Thankfully they were speaking Greek with parts in Danish.

She twisted around to look at him. "I don't trust any of them- except the father."

"But putting yourself on the same level as they are?" Konstantinos demanded. "And besides, you're sharing grandchildren with her now. Get used to it."

"The uncle is still in the palace," Anastasia was almost hysterical. "Cyrus!" She choked.

"Did you really expect Robert to evict his own uncle?" Konstantinos asked, incredulously. "I'd be worried if he did. Leave it be, Anastasia. He knows we're watching him. And not just us. He's in trouble if we so much as suspect he's onto something."

"Nevertheless," Anastasia snarled. But Konstantinos shook his head. "Cyrus is not getting anywhere near the family's living quarters that includes the nurseries."

Anastasia tried to breathe evenly. "I'll never stop worrying about her," she said, frankly. "And now four of them, and Robert. What if anything were to happen to them? And when the triplets are still young? Would there be a regency?"

"Aglaia would be regent," Konstantinos said softly. "That was what Robert agreed on."

"And if they tried to remove her?" Anastasia was almost hysterical with fear. "Kosta- they got inside her hospital room!" She was hysterical. "Metaxas- and Ted Pryce! A regicide- _two_ regicides! And you heard what Robert said- if anything were to happen to him before the babies come of age, Liam would be made Lord Protector of the Realm and joint regent along with Aglaia!"

"And he's proven not to be the murderer!" Konstantinos insisted.

Anastasia took a deep breath. "I still don't trust him- or his mother, the children's other grandmother." She said finally. "How do we know that those deaths- they had nothing to do with them? And how did people get away with these things? How was this not reported to the media?" She stood. "Kosta-" she began. But Konstantinos' eyes flew to the doorway where Aglaia was.

Aglaia put on a smile, as if she was just coming in. "I was wondering if you had any ideas for the day nursery." She started. Her mother put on a smile. "Of course. How are the babies?"

"Well, they've all been fed, burped and changed. And they've been put to bed." Aglaia responded. "We're planning their Christenings, but first we have to present them to the outside world."

"Missed that at the hospital, did we?" Her father sighed.

"Yes, well, we had to," Aglaia stuttered. "The security was… Concerned. Especially after the events last night."

Her father's eyes darkened. "Speaking of which," he began. "Where was the security?"

Silence.

"Well…" Aglaia trailed off. What could she say? That her husband…

No, she thought. They mistrusted and detested the family enough. She would give them no more reason to do so, not with her husband of all people. That was the agreement on which she was even married in the first place.

"Well, I sent them away," she lied.

Her parents stared at her. "You did _what?"_ They both asked, aghast.

"There were too many of them," Aglaia lied. "Besides, I had Jasper Frost and James Hill. They were the ones who tackled and stopped Ted Pryce from killing me and Metaxas, before Dimitri and Alexios came into the room." She finished.

Anastasia shook her head. "Aglaia- why?" She choked. "You knew there were killers. I thought at least you would be more responsible for that!"

"I-" She took a deep breath. "It was my own idea to use myself as bait," she spoke. "So I pretended that the babies were already born, stuffed some swaddling blankets and asked for three hospital bassinets and that was what they thought were the babies."

"But you still could have been killed!" Her mother blurted.

"No- they were ready," she insisted. "And Robert was the one who killed Ted Pryce himself."

"Robert?" Her father was surprised. "Robert killed him?"

"With a gunshot wound," Aglaia said quietly. "Liam didn't pull the trigger. He couldn't. But Robert did it, only to protect us."

Konstantinos and Anastasia exchanged looks.

"As I knew he would." Aglaia said quietly. "And I was ready. I was ready because I knew what I was getting myself into when I married into this family." She said before she left.

* * *

Willow was smiling nervously.

Aglaia smiled gently as she gave Willow something. "My husband's on his way," she said quietly. "Just so you know, the medal is from the king and queen. But the thank you is from the babies' mother and father." She took Willow's hands within her own and looked her gently in the eye as she did so.

Willow blushed enormously. "And I hope it's not too much to ask," Aglaia said quietly. "Especially as you've already done so much, it's irreplaceable. But would you be godmother?" Willow stared at her. "I admit, it wasn't just Liam we named William after. Your full name is Wilhelmina, isn't it?" She smiled at her. "They'll be the most fortunate babies to have you as their godmother, and we'd be the luckiest to have you around with us." Aglaia said.

Willow found herself smiling and blushing all the same. She was near to being emotional as she could be and she found herself embarrassed. Not even when she started the hashtag King Liam social media campaign did she receive this much sincerity and thanks. Helena acted as if it was all the most expected and she was pleased that Willow carried out her plan and glad. But Aglaia…

Was someone else entirely.

And Willow felt she was truly honoured and said so.

Aglaia glowed with joy. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "Thank you, so very much."

Willow's face was burning crimson

* * *

Robert went past to his sitting room.

Alexios was there, sitting in front of a chessboard. "Please," he gestured. "Would you like to play?"

Robert's lips twitched. "By all means," he stated. Robert sat down.

"So…" Alexios began. "How are the babies?"

"Well, they're thriving," the new father admitted.

"Aglaia's glowing so much… I don't think new mothers generally look as radiant as she does when they come out of the hospital." Alexios remarked.

"No," Robert said softly. "Aglaia… Is a person from another world." He said softly. "I didn't think there was anyone remotely like her in this world. And I was mostly right, but for one. She's worth more than the crown and throne." He said finally.

Alexios nodded. "So confession, isn't it? You knew we bugged your rooms?"

"I hope for your sister's sake, that you didn't bug our bedroom," Robert remarked.

"I'm not that crazy," Alexios said sharply.

"The bug was on the table," Robert pointed out. "In this very room. Do you have any idea what that table has witnessed around the time Aglaia became pregnant?"

Alexios froze. "I wasn't the one overseeing anything."

"No, your mother was," Robert said. "And I think I know how it was possible to conceive triplets so naturally. No In-Vitro Fertilisation, no surrogate pregnancy- nothing. Of course, you know as well as I do, that we royals aren't allowed that sort of thing."

"And naturally, of course, you knew about the Chinese pill," Alexios stated leaning closer, during their game. "And the bowls of medicine." He moved a pawn.

"Aglaia told me," Robert said, looking at him.

"So I've deduced. She trusts you," Alexios said, almost accusatorily. Robert moved a piece, another pawn.

"And I love her," Robert looked him in the eye. "And the children. More than anything. More than life itself."

Alexios smirked coldly and looked back at the game. He made another move. "I know," he stated. "And that's the only reason I haven't taken her and her children back to Greece with me and not allowed you or anyone of your family within ten leagues of her."

Robert's eyes were suddenly cold. He smirked. "I thought it'd be treason for a citizen and an act of war, for a royal, to do such a thing."

Alexios dark eyes were chilling, but Robert was unintimidated. The former smiled.

"I'm not afraid of a fight," Alexios stated. He moved forwards three squares.

"I've been in the Special Operations for a number of years. Dimitri was in NIS. It wasn't in any of our files- so yes, you can guess how good we've been but a number of agents and soldiers can attest to that."

Robert smiled. He laughed briefly. "Of course _that_ I can respect."

"Safe to say, you knew about it all, didn't you? You mentioned to me you were onto Ted Pryce for months. You must have known he wasn't dead."

"I didn't see the body," Robert remarked. "And we now all know that without bodies, you might as well _not_ be dead."

Alexios moved another piece. A knight this time.

"Of course," he stated. "And you did not seem surprised that Dimitri and I were alive as well."

"I had my suspicions," Robert stated.

"Did you know the whole time?" Alexios asked abruptly.

"No- in the beginning I truly believed you two were dead," he admitted. "But as things progressed… I realised we couldn't be so sure." He took a sip of water.

"That would have spelt disaster for you," Alexios stated. "After all, you knew my mother had given her those medicines to conceive. There were chances of a multiple pregnancy. And I was there that day when you were due to take your first balcony appearance since your 'death'. And I saw your younger brother." Robert did not move his eyes off Alexios' face.

"At first, I suspected him, just as I suspected your mother, uncle and sister," The Greek Crown Prince remarked. "Along with the rest of your security. But it wasn't them, was it, that was the greatest danger?" He looked at Robert.

"Liam was a wild card- you knew that. He was unpredictable. That's why you allowed her to take those medicines, as much as you loved your brother. You wouldn't have cared either way, but you also knew that her life was in danger from your family and enemies." He chuckled, shaking his head.

"You know in all the time I've been in a soldier, starting from when I was a cadet, training in the Taygete Mountains, and barren rocky islands, all the way 'til now, I had never lost a battle, always stayed one step ahead or two in front of even the most unexpected opponents. Dimitri was the same. He saved Greece from numerous terrorist attacks without anybody knowing it. He ever got official recognition, but he never failed at his task. We analysed, observed, strategized and made our move with precision and effectiveness." He took out a piece of Robert's.

"I thought that you would be the least threatening of the Henstridges," Alexios remarked. "But I was wrong. You were the most dangerous one of all. Why? Because nobody, not even your uncle and mother, and certainly not your brother, emotional, rash and hot-headed as he is, ruled by his own heart, could plan, anticipate, execute and strategize as masterfully as you do. No one, can fool anyone the way you did, lure them into being drawn into you. You have a charisma that most people- royal or elected, subject or otherwise- can only ever dream of. Including your brother. Liam never stood a chance. You won, from the very beginning." Alexios leaned forwards dangerously. "And you certainly managed to do what no one has ever done before- not once- outwit and outsmart me and Dimitri, all in one stroke, staying at least two steps ahead of us both." He leaned back.

"And no one has ever managed to win our sister's heart." Alexios' eyes narrowed dangerously as Robert observed him. "Safe as it is to say, you've actually won." He laughed. "You won and everybody else- from all angles- lost. You had opponents everywhere from all angles- your own family who sought the throne; your uncle, your emotional and unpredictable brother. The Greek politicians and our family who saw your family as a danger towards Aglaia and our line of succession. Ted Pryce who held a grudge against your family and Metaxas who assisted in the massacres of our civil war and genocide. Your love rivals. And in one stroke, you actually won." Alexios raised his glass. "I salute your victory, king of Britain."

Robert raised his glass as well.

"Thank you," he remarked. "I didn't know you'd take it so well."

"Safe to say, I have no reason and no stupidity to see battles between us," Alexios stated. "My mother hates yours enough because she's afraid and mistrusts her. My sister is upset about that. You love her and your children, no matter what, that can't be denied, and like me and the rest of us, you'll fight to the worst and most bitter of ends to keep her and the children safe. I'll be foolish to get rid of the one Henstridge who is capable and eager to keep my sister, nephews and niece safe. I may not like this, but not only do I have to salute your victory, I may continue on depending on you in regards to their safety and welfare, as well as owing you a great favour."

"Your sister is my wife, your nephews and niece are my children," Robert remarked. "The favour is not necessary."

"It is to a Spartan." Alexios said. "A debt."

"But this alliance is much appreciated." Robert continued, looking up at him. "Agreed," Alexios said.

Robert took a sip and then moved a piece. "Checkmate." He said softly. Alexios laughed.

"If you love her," he said, standing. "Remember what my father asked you at your wedding?"

"Not to look after Aglaia because she has always been capable of doing that herself," Robert recalled. "But to look after each other."

"Exactly," Alexios agreed. "As long as you continue to do that, and care for your children and the relationship between you doesn't change, you will have not only a strong ally but at least two powerful ones in Greece- and we'll do anything to make sure the Danes- our relatives- and the other royal houses and politicians are backing you and our sister. You won't be dethroned by anyone."

Robert inclined his head. "It's an honour."

Alexios exhaled. As he was leaving, Robert remarked: "That navy captain- Dimtriou," he stated. Alexios turned. "What about him?"

"Find a way to remove him," Robert said. "Take him back to Greece, or I can't promise that a man who didn't merely challenge me in my own kingdom, within my own palace, to seduce my wife and take advantage of her grief, won't pay for what he's done. I may not be a casual killer, Alexios, but I can't promise that he won't pay or suffer for what he's done." Robert's voice was a deadly calm but it promised rage.

Alexios nodded. "Very well then. I never liked him myself." He chuckled and left.

Robert smiled.

* * *

"Are these… Dior?" Aglaia asked, in disbelief. She took out the sketches.

Len sighed. "Mum brought them over."

"What's wrong with Dior?" Helena questioned. Aglaia looked at her. "What did the Robert and the twins wear during their Christenings?"

"Well," Helena thought about it. "Robert wore this…. Heirloom thing. It was Simon's and his father's and his father's before him."

"And what happened to it?" Aglaia questioned.

Helena opened her mouth and looked at Spencer.

"I'm afraid that the adornments such as the lace which the robe is comprised entirely of, is much too fragile to be of extensive use anymore." Spencer put in.

"Yes, that." Helena remarked. She sipped her tea. "As for Liam and Eleanor's… They're out of fashion. Out of date."

"You didn't have any heirlooms for their gowns?" Aglaia asked.

"Well…" Helena trailed off. "No, not really. There weren't that many royal twins before now."

"And clearly not that many royal triplets," Eleanor remarked, shuffling the papers. Aglaia sighed. "May I… See Robert's Christening gown?" She asked.

"Well of course," Helena stated. "But what are you going to do with it? William can't possibly wear it, it'll fall apart and leave the future king of England naked. So not desirable." She shuddered delicately.

"I would like to take something old… A symbol of a continuation of a dynasty and a time-honoured monarchy," Aglaia began. "And combine it with something new. To symbolise new beginnings." She held up the sketches.

Helena looked impressed. "Oh, I see. Well played." She drank her tea.

As long as her cow of a mother didn't intrude, to Helena that was the perfect moment.

Of course, that didn't last long. Anastasia would never dream of leaving her beloved, precious only daughter alone with _Helena._ And Eleanor.


	11. Chapter 11

**To Superdani4Ever: Yes, they're absolutely sweet! And they'll have a happier, healthy childhood than their father, uncle and aunt. Alexios is going to be happy with her- she's in the next chapter along with the Christening. I think Robbie- although he might be wary of Liam who's a wild card, will always love his brother no matter what. Same with his uncle. I did try to put a romance in, but it was also drama and humour so I put that in. Besides, if it was romance without anything else, I'm afraid I wouldn't enjoy it as much. As for the two grannies, they'll find some common ground, I'm sure. Aglaia is everybody's favourite, and there's another flashback! Willow will be in the next chapter and Aglaia's brothers will spice things up at the Christening.**

 **But who's Zeus and who's Ares out of the two brothers-in-law?**

 **P.S: I don't own _Royals_.**

* * *

 **How Prone to Doubt, How Cautious are the Wise!**

So perhaps the Christening gowns could be easily sorted, Aglaia thought. The playroom too. The problem was that the playroom or day nursery could not be painted. The babies' health was still fragile. So like Selena's nursery, which had such exquisite wallpaper she could not resist buying them (though they had Shirley Barber fairy paintings framed in gold gilt), they would have to cover the babies' playroom in wallpaper, though they had been looking forwards to painting it themselves, but it meant that the babies could not get anywhere near the painted room until it was safe.

"The Christening gowns…" Aglaia mused. "I think I'd like to do them ourselves."

Len beamed and nodded. "Right. And we have the nannies to help us with that." She stated. "Nanny Marge has been given over to Will. Nanny Pam to Andrew and Nanny Stacy to Selena though they can rotate."

"Excellent," Aglaia smiled. Anastasia narrowed her eyes. "Have you met these nannies?" She asked quietly.

"Yes, and I've looked over their credentials and their training," Aglaia said. "They graduated from Norland College in Bath, which provide nannies not only to royalty ever since the Victorian Era but to celebrities. Pop stars, footballers, movie stars and billionaires. They not only know how to tend to babies, the way I'd like them to be looked after, they can cook things that children would love to eat- nursery food." Her mother grimaced. She preferred food in Greece or in her native Denmark. "And how to change nappies- or diapers- made of cloth and safety pins, set up an old perambulator at record time, intensively care for new-born babies, including things like very specific hygiene, holding and cradling them, and helping them learn through play which is what I want. They also know how to defend the babies, as a last resort, from kidnappers and the like. They can drive at high speeds to avoid paparazzi and potential threats. I think I like them." She smiled up at her mother. "Besides, Eleanor herself was impressed and even the security guards couldn't deny that they were more than highly qualified for the babies care and protection."

Anastasia had a sour look on her face as if she doubted and wanted to challenge fervently anything Eleanor and the Henstridges' Security agreed with in regards to the babies' care and safety.

Anastasia sighed. "Very well. Are you still craving quail and caviar?"

Aglaia shook her head, laughing. "Why do my babies have to have such expensive tastes? It's like they know that they're royalty."

"Oh, dear, there's nothing wrong with that." Helena smiled. "Besides, caviar is high-class food. Same as quail and all those other rare delicacies you craved. Fit for a future king, prince and princess."

"And the Kobe beef," Aglaia muttered. The most expensive beef in the world. Beluga caviar and quail- their eggs and meat? Good grief, the babies were spoiled before they were even born. But then again, her mother said that she had craved asparagus with salted eggs when expecting Dimitri and Dimitri _hated_ those.

Speaking of Kobe beef… Aglaia's head snapped up. "I've invited Princess Mizuki of Akishino, the Emperor of Japan's granddaughter to the Christening. I wanted her to be a godmother, but she's Shinto and the rules are clear: the godparents have to be Christians." Aglaia sighed. _She_ had sent over that beef.

"So I'm asking her to be unofficial godmother- meaning she'll still take as much an interest in their upbringing even though she can't stand at the font with us and anoint them with the Chrism oil."

Anastasia relaxed slightly. A small smile touched her lips, unnoticed by her daughter, but definitely seen by Helena. Helena's suspicions rose: what was this evil queen planning?

"What's she like?" Helena enquired, delicately.

"Well… She's… Unique." Aglaia smiled. "In a good way. Perhaps you should wait to meet her." She looked over the designs and put pencil to paper, beginning to sketch.

"Now, Eleanor, I don't know… Would you perhaps care for this," she began and the two of them looked over Aglaia's outline.

* * *

Liam looked down at the baby: Andrew. He was howling his lungs out, face red with fury. "Come on," he said, almost panicking. His tiny nephew scowled ( _scowled_ \- who knew babies, could do that?) at him. And roared in fury, shaking his tiny fists about.

"What should I do?" Liam nearly panicked. Jasper looked wide-eyed. "You're asking _me?"_ He demanded incredulously.

"Well, I don't know," Liam said. "Will and Selena aren't like this." Andrew might have been a new-born but it was clear he had a temper. With their luck, he probably inherited some violent tendencies from who-know-where? Some crazy ancestor perhaps. Will in contrast, appeared level-headed and observant (a good thing too) and Selena was all sweetness and gold. She adored nothing more than seeing her father, her mother, aunt, uncle, grandparents and just about anybody new or otherwise. She loved nothing more than being cuddled and held close, her eyes always sparkling.

 _Like her mother,_ Liam thought. Her eyes were so much like her mother.

Aglaia only looked more beautiful. She was glowing, radiant and smiling. Not dishevelled or exhausted-looking despite the birth.

Aglaia who would now belong to Robert, completely. Undisputedly.

Liam was shaken out of his thoughts when three women in brown fifties-style dresses with buttons, bows and perfectly clean white gloves appeared inside the nursery.

"Who're you?" He blurted.

"Nanny Pam, assigned to Prince Andrew," she answered with a honey smile.

Liam barely blinked before he saw two more identically-dressed women smiling with sugary smiles, appearing. "I'm Nanny Marge, your royal highness," one of them said. "Assigned to Prince William." "And I'm Nanny Stacy, assigned to Princess Selena."

Jasper cringed inwardly and fought to hold his ground. He'd been in gunfights. He'd been in jail. He'd never experienced anything like these.

The three women all smiled, sugary-sweet with bared teeth at Liam in what was clearly meant to placate him. Liam clutched the baby tighter to his chest.

"Well," he said, trying to regain some of his nerve. "Well… Prince Andrew is in a bit of a…" he gestured helplessly at the screaming baby."

Nanny Pam gently lifted him. _"Oooh,"_ she said. "Someone needs a change."

"Right," Liam mumbled. "I'll get to it then," he and Jasper hurriedly left the room.

"Where'd these women come from anyway?" He asked Jasper urgently.

"From some Nanny college down in Bath," Jasper muttered in an undertone.

Liam stared. "There's a nanny college?"

"Yeah." Jasper agreed. "They even teach them how to beat attackers up and drive like NASCAR racers. And to sew, cook, bake, do laundry and look after kids for celebrities: pop stars, billionaires, movie stars, sports stars and royals. I can't deny they're… Really, really good- excellent in fact. But… All the same, I'm not looking forwards to spending that much time with them." He shuddered and turned green.

Liam couldn't blame him. One meeting with those three and they already creeped him out.

"However," Jasper took a deep breath. "The queen has assigned me to be with Len, and Len's going to spend a lot of time with the babies, she's decided. And while I'd love nothing more, this means…" He cringed.

"Good luck," Liam whispered.

"They sing Mary Poppins," Jasper whispered. _"Extensively._ They even have umbrellas."

* * *

"So the linen and silk." Aglaia sighed. "Maybe it would be more practical to have cotton, but this is a fancy occasion. So, I think…" She peered at the designer sketches. "I'm going to do this myself."

"I can help." Anastasia put in. "I can help too," Helena put up her finger. Anastasia regarded her with distaste.

"I didn't think you knew how to sew," The queen of Greece said in a deadly calm voice.

"I can… Select fabrics, sort out colours and laces," Helena blustered. "I can do a lot of things. I'm the qu- the queen mother." She said indignantly.

Anastasia's lip curled. To prevent a stand-off between the two of them, Aglaia showed the sketches.

"This is for William." It was a regal gown adorned with some of the lace and cloth-of-silver from Robert's old Christening gown, but obviously on a new design which Aglaia herself had sketched. "And this is for Andrew." She held up a long linen thing with motifs and a royal crest, same as William, though less adorned. The motifs she had designed specifically as symbols of good fortune to adorn the babies' gowns lined Andrew's and bordered his in silver, whereas in Will's it was more subtle. There was some lace, but it was an 'Elegant Minimalism' style, with its austerity projecting some sort of promise of future power, whereas William's was more outwardly regal and powerful.

In contrast the design for Selena's gown was undisputedly more feminine and graceful. It had a lot more antique lace in flower-buds and blooms, though the style was modern- it wasn't long-sleeved, and the lace was arranged in stylish patterns.

Helena marvelled at them. "They look fabulous!" She declared in glee. "Now…" Aglaia began. "I think we have to begin soon, but we're presenting them first, and I have to check on the babies now, so if you would excuse me," she stood up and left. Len left with her.

The room was silent as Anastasia and Helena sat side by side, but with a sizeable gap in the sofa between them.

"She has good taste," Helena said stiffly.

Anastasia smiled sardonically. "She always has. She planned at one point, to be a fashion designer. She also designed and made a number of her own gowns, dresses, coats and suits."

Helena stared at her. "It's hard to believe. Considering that there were so many designers giving her their stuff for free."

"Perhaps because they like her," Anastasia said dryly. "Everyone likes her," Helena muttered.

"Huh." The Greek queen's lips twitched. "She was always everybody's favourite. Including all our relatives. No doubt Princess Mizuki of Japan will not be the only foreign royal in attendance." Anastasia trailed off. Clearly she was implying it had been some time since Helena saw other royalty.

"And can I also be certain," Helena began. "That we may rely on your support and the support of all these politicians and royal houses… To back my son?"

"Your son, his wife and their children." Anastasia- who was a Danish princess by birth- said coolly. "My brother, his wife and children love Aglaia. It comes as no surprise. Denmark has a considerable amount of say in European politics and social life. Even for a constitutional monarch. The Danes are also fervent supporters of their monarchy and Aglaia is a princess there as well."

Aglaia who was titled, Princess of Greece and Denmark since birth, now was queen of England.

"It's in everyone's interests to forge a strong, _new_ relationship with the new king and queen and their heirs." Anastasia stated simply.

"However, _external_ support will not save them from internal struggle- scandal and drama." Anastasia turned her icy green eyes- so different from her own daughter's in terms of temperature- towards Helena. "Scandal that touches the crown, always rocks the monarchy and thus the very foundations of the kingdom. A number of great monarchies have already fallen: Russia's Tsar and his wife and children were shot because they failed to realise that times changed and what their people were going through. They were shut up inside a regal bubble and they had absolutely no idea. The French king Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette had their heads cut off by guillotine, after being shut up in Versailles, spending lavish amounts of money, with absolutely no idea how their people were functioning and how to relate to them. Charles I of this country was sent to the scaffold as well. Once long ago, everything revolves around the monarchy. The sun rose and set with the monarch in the eyes of the people. But now, things have changed. People have seen America. And despite having an orange _beast_ for president, they didn't do too badly. I know your husband wanted to abolish the monarchy." Anastasia said coldly.

Helena sat very still. "And I know why. He was a great king your husband- he thought about his own people's needs and future more than his own desires. It can't have been an easy thing for him to do- deciding to break a time-honoured tradition in order to safeguard his people against excess, corruption, scandal and more. But he decided to do it. Because he believed in duty- that we who are monarchs, consort and their offspring, have a set role to play. A role which demands that we look to our people more than we do ourselves. And those that cannot, like your own weasel of a brother-in-law, Cyrus- must be removed."

Helena froze. "Robert won't evict his own uncle, will he?" Anastasia said softly. "But Cyrus is a threat. You and I may not like each other, but you can't deny this man who's murdered one person at the very least to protect himself and his interests, is no threat to your son, my daughter and their children. We now share grandchildren, don't we? And Cyrus is still living in the palace."

Helena breathed out. "What are you saying exactly?"

"That I want him removed." Anastasia said with a voice like steel.

"Aglaia thinks you all should keep a close eye on him, but he's powerless without any title. And he's nowhere near as popular as your late husband and son. But he's still scheming, waiting to disgrace and dishonour you if not kill you. As a matter of fact, he already has. In the Middle Ages, you would have been deemed a wh*** and beheaded at the very least, for sleeping with another man besides your husband, and giving rise to the suspicion that your two younger children were not Simon's. Now you've been humiliated and barely saved the monarchy. You can't let that happen again," her voice grew more and more like steel. "For the children's sakes."

"The children are certainly Robert's," Helena said. "And Aglaia's- they're legitimate."

"And while no one disputes that, what if Robert had been there when Cyrus put forwards those accusations about you and those lovers?" Anastasia said in a very low tone. "That would have been it. It would have spelled the end of the monarchy and no one would have trusted a single word you say." She sipped her tea.

"So… You want me to get rid of Cyrus?" Helena found herself saying.

"Not kill him," Anastasia confirmed. "But get rid of him? Yes. Render him powerless and useless. After all, with no titles, openly disgraced…"

* * *

"I can never do that," Robert said steadily.

"As much as we… Do not necessarily get along, she has a point." Helena stated.

Aglaia looked, astonished at her own mother. "Really?" She asked incredulously.

"You do know Cyrus was my father's brother," Robert said, standing up from behind his desk. "And that we are a family, as difficult as it is to imagine. But that is what the people would want, and that is what they need."

"I agree." Aglaia was holding both William and Selena. Andrew was sleeping in his nursery, one of the rare moments when he would actually sleep undisturbed. Usually he was fussy if left alone for a single moment. Will and Selena were calmer, the latter happier and more genial to be around people. Will was silent, swaddled in his blankets and Selena kept cooing.

"Cyrus is family." She looked straight at her mother and mother-in-law. "Which is why he will be invited to the Christening."

"WHAT?!" For once both queens were shocked and aghast.

"I agree," Robert stated. "Him and his… Wife? Ex-wife? Remarried wife? Whatever it is you call the Duchess of Essex, she will be in attendance, along with Penelope and Maribel."

"But… You can't do that." Helena spluttered. Anastasia simply looked aghast.

Robert and Aglaia exchanged looks. For once their mothers were getting along, but they were getting along with this?

"Firstly, I am unable to _evict_ my own uncle from the palace, nor am I able to strip him of any royal titles without a good cause." Robert paused. "As in… Actual proof, instead of mere allegations, that he's done something wrong. And that itself could be dangerous during such a time." He looked at them both.

"Secondly, Cyrus must be watched and kept closely. Not sent far away. As of now, we have no proof, so we must be extra-careful."

Aglaia looked down and rocked Will and Selena gently.

"So as to summarise, as there is no proof of Cyrus actually doing anything, he's staying." Robert stated.

When the two of them had left, Robert shook his head. "Unbelievable. The only time they're getting along and it's about expelling my own uncle out, publicly humiliating him and causing a scandal within the family."

"Scandal is dangerous," Aglaia said softly. "The more it comes, the more it corrodes the monarchy. Even mere speculation of scandal…" She shook her head.

"We want to rebrand and rebuild the monarchy in a new image. An image which reaches out to and relates to ordinary citizens. We are showing them as we truly are: that we are a husband and a wife who love each other and our children and that we would do anything to safeguard our people, their future and make them prosper; help them in any way. Even though most of them are idiots, openly splitting from Cyrus could be… Disastrous. Not unless he's done something."

Robert sighed and leaned back. "You're right." He admitted. Aglaia looked at him compassionately and stood, putting the babies down and walking over to kiss him.

"On the subject of the Christening," Aglaia began. "Which candidates have you picked as godparents?"

Robert sighed. "Well, there's Beck." Aglaia nodded. "And not much really."

"Alright then," Aglaia murmured. "Beck it is. Oh-" she said in surprise. "I think Jasper would make a good godfather too."

Robert stared.

* * *

The nannies sang Mary Poppins:

" _A Spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down_

 _The medicine go down-wown_

 _The medicine go down_

 _Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down_

 _In a most delightful way!"_

Jasper tried not to cringe. James Hill tried to remain as emotionless as ever. As a father himself, he had not been adverse to singing nursery rhymes and songs. But this was a whole new level of crazy. Even for the Henstridges' head of security.

They had been singing that song for hours.

"OH! There you are!" Eleanor came in.

"HI!" The nannies chorused happily at the exact same time, with honey-sweet smiles. Jasper struggled to hold his lunch down.

"Right- I was going to talk about the subject of the Christening. Right now, Robbie's with the Privy Council. The births have been announced. And…" Eleanor looked at Jasper gleefully. "The queen wants you to stand in as godfather." Jasper spluttered.

"Congratulations. Now I know which one of us will be here the most." James muttered. The nannies were… Indescribable. They both liked the queen- enormously, and the fact is being somebody's godparent was an unbelievable honour, but these nannies…

"OOOHHH!" The nannies chorused. Not that loudly, though. Even though the babies weren't sleeping.

"Oh, your royal highness, isn't this exciting? I think he thinks so too, don't you _wittel_ Willy?" Nanny Marge cooed at William. "Jasper here's going to be your _goddaddy_!"

Jasper was going to hurl.

* * *

The Privy Council had decided. His Royal Highness Prince William Simon Alexander Constantine Henstridge firstborn of King Robert and Queen Aglaia, would be titled Prince of Wales and therefore, made heir to the throne. His younger brother by a few seconds, His Royal Highness Prince Andrew Dimitri Philip Edward would be second in line for the throne. Their sister, Her Royal Highness Princess Selena Sophia Anastasia Helene would follow as third in line, as she was three minutes younger than both.

This placed Prince Liam and Princess Eleanor as fourth and fifth in line, respectively. Cyrus, their uncle was now sixth and his daughters, the Princesses Penelope and Maribel, seventh and eighth. At the same time, Crown Prince Alexios of Greece's engagement to Artemisia Christakos was announced. The couple were very happy with each other. Artemisia would be attending the triplets' Christening.

Aglaia sighed. The babies were presented to the public, when they should have done it on the way out of the hospital. Robert held William but he often had his attentions divided between the three of them- particularly Selena who cooed and clearly adored her father. It was a clear sign that the three of them would receive the same training, grooming and education as each other. The younger two were more than spares. They were going to make the world their own.

People cheered loudly as the three of them were presented along with their very proud, and joyful parents. Love had triumphed after all.

* * *

"So what on earth do we do?" Cyrus hissed. They could be bugging them right now. "We can't do anything…"

"Yet." Veruca said in an undertone, her eyes narrowing. She was aware of the danger. "You know Queen Anastasia wants you evicted from the palace?" She sipped her cognac.

"WHAT?!" Cyrus bugged. "She can't do that! I'm the king of England!"

"The _former_ king," Veruca reminded him. "No chance of you taking back the throne at this state. Not with all of them watching. The King of Denmark is Aglaia's uncle. She's his favourite niece, which is more than I can say about you and Robert. Same with her various European royal relatives and her friends in Asia, Africa and the Middle East." Veruca was sour, but there was nothing she could do. She pulled a bet- she knew about Pryce and Metaxas, they both did- and remarried him. Now she was stuck with this weasel and she had to propel them both forwards. "She's popular." She drank her cognac.

"Which is why it's incredible that she's managed to give birth to triplets and secure their position on the throne," Veruca stated. "Crown Prince Alexios is due to marry soon, and security _is_ rather heavy, considering that a weasel still lives in the palace- I mean you, of course, my dear." She sighed. "But Penelope and Maribel will be coming. In the meantime, with us unable to do anything… Let's hope our girls can move on with their lives at the very least."

"What do you mean by that?" Cyrus demanded.

"You'll see," Veruca said with a devilish twinkle in her eye as she drained the last of her cognac.

* * *

"I don't understand, Mum, we like, had those outfits picked out for us already," Penelope whined.

"Yeah," Maribel said crossly, trying to adjust her dress. "What're we doing this for again?"

"Listen to me- the triplets' Christening is an immensely important occasion. Royals from around the world will be attending. Your task is to… Ahem… Well, Liam will likely be looking for a bride. Eleanor has someone, I'm sure. Crown Prince Alexios is engaged, and rumour has it Prince Dimitri is looking to be. Therefore, you must hunt, girls! Hunt for a man to put a baby in your belly!"

The two dopey girls looked at each other hopelessly.

Their mother had catching up plans she wanted her daughter to implement.

Veruca scoured the internet. She had to be careful to erase her searches. But Chinese doctors were definitely among the very, very best.

And as she was being tracked…

"I'm not feeling so well…" She moaned. Cyrus snorted and rolled his eyes. "What's the matter now?" "Gastric and intestinal problems." Veruca fake-moaned. She was perfectly fine.

"I suppose I'll have to call the doctor," Cyrus slurred.

"No," Veruca said. "I'll go with the girls- they can take me."

Cyrus scoffed. "The two half-wits? What're they going to do? Toss you in front of a male model or make you down LSD to deal with the pain?" He gulped down more Scotch.

Veruca ignored him. "I'm going to my own doctor," she said crossly. "Goodness knows, the rest of you are useless. If Penelope and Maribel are, they certainly must have inherited it from somebody." She scoffed.

Cyrus rolled his eyes and downed his glass.

"So… What is this doctor Mum?" Penelope asked.  
"Sshh." Her mother interrupted.

They reached a building and had to go up some narrow stairs. Veruca looked inquisitively ahead.

"I don't get it," Maribel grumbled. "Why can't we just… Get the doctor to come to us, like… Us?" She asked.

"Sshhh." Her mother hissed. "You are not to mention why we're here to anyone, under any circumstances."

"Um… Because you had a stomach bug?" Maribel asked. The girls looked at each other.

"No, because you," Veruca turned towards her eldest daughter. "And you," she turned towards her younger one. "Are going to form alliances, marry princes and become queens and mothers to kings and queens. Possibly in England." She whirled around, causing her daughters to be even more confused.

"Either way, we are going to win." Their mother said determinedly.

* * *

"Alright, so…" The Chinese doctor- a lady with a tied-back ponytail and a lab coat, began.

"I'm here for my daughters," Veruca said imperiously. "I want to know what it takes- apart from a man with sperm and a good strong erection- for them to get pregnant."

"Right." She looked weirded out. She opened her mouth. "Oh, and you mustn't say anything about this to anyone." Veruca interrupted. "Otherwise, you won't get your bonus, I'm afraid. And there are confidentiality agreements."

"My treatments with my patients are always confidential," the doctor said warily. "Unless they themselves choose to open up about them."

"Well, no chance of that." Veruca giggled. "Right girls?"

Maribel answered with a very confused smile, while her sister just looked dumbfounded.

"So… I would require to check them, if I may." Veruca gestured for Penelope. "Penelope will go first," she said. "On you go." Her daughter ended on the examining table.

"I'm going to need to check various things," the doctor warned. Pulse, temperatures, and so forth were taken.

"Well… It looks like it will be some time before either of the girls conceive," the doctor said to Veruca.

Veruca's smile faded. "What do you mean it's going to take some time?"

"Well… The girls aren't ready."

Veruca stood. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, it takes time and work to get their bodies into the right working order for them to conceive," the doctor admitted. "There are various hormone-" she trailed off under Veruca's furious gaze.

"Very well then." She said, trying to control her temper. "Just get them ready. It's about time they both got _knocked up."_ She looked at the girls. "How do we get them ready? How long will it take?"

"Well… It appears the two of them will need extensive exercise and a healthy diet of fertility-boosting foods and fresh water. No cigarettes, no alcohol and certainly no drugs. It may take… Some time. Possibly months."

"Months?" Veruca hissed in a breath. _"Why?"_

"Because while they have eggs, it is undisputed that their womb, cervix, ovaries and oviducts, and other reproductive organs are not yet in the right condition to house a growing zygote, an embryo and then a foetus." The doctor explained.

"Then how does one get oneself ready?" She asked crossly. Aglaia had been as healthy as could be. She wasn't just beautiful and desirable enough to make Robert unable to keep his hands and hungry gaze from her. Even after the birth, she was as slim as could be, with a _tiny_ waist and a cleavage to die for. If Veruca had to guess, Robert was back to banging her with immense passion. Soon, there'll be more royal heirs, she thought darkly.

They didn't have much time. Not if Penelope could be a queen.

"Well… There is not only the diet and the exercise to think about, we also have to think about balancing hormone levels. We may be able to give some medicines, but these are highly powerful medicines and extremely potent when it comes to boosting fertility-"

"Excellent!" Veruca trilled. "We'll take them, won't we girls?"

The girls nodded but still looked dopey. After all it would be at least a month before the babies were christened. In the meantime, Veruca just had to get her girls looking attractive- and ready to pop an egg and a baby. The rest will take care of itself. After all, what were nannies for, anyway?

* * *

Aglaia gently picked up Baby Selena deciding to give her a sponge bath. She had to be careful; sponge baths were preferred until the navel heals completely from the umbilical cord. She shouldn't bathe them too frequently, however, as it would cause drying on her babies' skins.

Gently stroking her baby, she carried her to a baby-sized bowl, filled with warm water- not hot. Undressing Selena, she immediately wrapped the baby in a towel, getting the soft washcloth and sponge, unscented baby shampoo and soap, clean diaper, clothes, brush and towel ready.

As she rubbed the baby's eyes with the washcloth gently, Robert came into the room. He watched her as she bathed the baby, gently washing her face with the slightly dampened cloth and lathering her hair in shampoo, taking care to avoid her eyes, holding her up.

"Can I help?" Robert asked quietly.

"It's alright," Aglaia sighed. She rinsed Selena's head. "Not yet anyway." Using the sponge and soap she gently washed the rest of the baby's body, particularly the creases of the neck, behind the ears and private parts. She'd been doing this for years with new-borns. So Aglaia had had plenty of practice.

"How are Will and Andrew?" She asked. She'd fed, cleaned and changed them both. "They're asleep," Robert said softly. He watched in silence as his wife, gently picked up and meticulously dried Selena and diapered and dressed her again after using baby powder, oil, ointment and lotion.

"What is it?" She asked Robert. "Has something happened?" She made sure the baby's hair was dry.

He heaved a sigh. "Veruca has taken her daughters to a Chinese doctor."

Aglaia paused and looked up at him. "I take it, it isn't for acupuncture."

"No," he agreed. She filled a bottle with pumped milk. How in the world can you possibly nurse three babies enough, she didn't know. But she could give them both formula and her own milk. It was warmed.

"So… I take it they haven't given up yet," she paused.

"And Veruca's consulting a doctor so that one her daughters might conceive an heir." Robert summarised. "Possibly both."

"They have little chance of inheriting Britain's throne unless something monumental happens." She gave the baby the bottle. Selena started eating. Aglaia made sure she was swallowing the milk and not choking.

"No," Robert agreed. "But, they're still scheming, and they haven't given up." He regarded them both silently. "Do you regret it," he asked softly. "Putting yourself in the heart of this viper's nest, and bringing our children here?"

Aglaia gave him a small smile. "Do you?"

Robert sighed. "As selfish as this may seem, I never can nor will I ever. You were the greatest thing to have ever occurred in my life," he said softly. "And these children are such a gift. The four of you… Are so irreplaceable. So priceless. I'd give up everything and anything… For all of you."

Aglaia smiled as she shifted Selena so her head rested on her shoulder. "Then we'll face this… Together. We have to. For each other and for our children." She kissed him and began gently patting the baby's back, holding her head in place. They gazed at each other adoringly, before Robert leaned in for another kiss.

"Cyrus will be there at the Christening and so will Veruca and the girls. Don't prevent them. Let them come," she advised him. "Everybody will be watching. Royals, politicians, celebrities and all our people." She kept patting the baby's back. "They know they're being watched. What they don't know is the depth of how much people don't trust them. No doubt Veruca is trying to get her girls to seduce a foreign prince. Poor sods," she laughed.

"The princes or my cousins?" Robert asked dryly.

Selena managed to burp- and vomit out excess milk. Aglaia shifted her so she could clean her face with the baby wipes on the shelf. Robert passed them to her.

"Thank you," she smiled. "Both. I don't think Penelope and Maribel want a part in this."

"They don't want anything other than what they've always had," Robert muttered. "Unlike you, they'll be totally unprepared to be mothers. And marriage, damn, they won't know what hit them."

Aglaia carefully cleaned the baby's face and made sure her nose and mouth weren't blocked. She began gently rocking Selena.

Then the personalised monitor she carried with her at all times sounded: Andrew- again.

"Here," Robert held out his arms, and she passed him Selena.

"It's Andrew, you can find me in his nursery if anything happens." She stated, walking out her daughter's nursery.

Robert gazed down at Baby Selena. She gazed up at him with those clear, deep, liquid emerald eyes.

He smiled. "Why do grownups have to be so silly and greedy, Selena?" He asked his daughter. "Your great-uncle Cyrus is a weasel. And his wife is silly. But they're so smart and they want to take your place and take you away from me." She cooed up at him, her tiny, diminutive hands with their miniscule fingers and soft nails, struggling and reaching out to touch him. He kissed those fingers. "I love so," he said to her. "I love you so much, Selena. You, your brothers William and Andrew and your Mummy." He sighed. "Why do they have to try to take you away from me, hm? Is it because I was born to sit on that throne? Because I was the eldest? Because I was your granddad's first son?" He sighed. "I miss him." He admitted.

The baby's cheeks were rosy with health and she was glowing. All three babies had the best of care from their mother and those strange, eccentric, but very efficient and pleasant nannies. But at the same time, he wondered if it would have been so much better if they lived somewhere out there, far from a palace, no Cyrus, no media circus, no Ted Pryces and no fascists targeting them specifically. He was born to take the throne. He had been groomed and raised to take it, educated and trained all his life. And now, he suddenly realised how much he hated it. He genuinely worshipped his people, his home, his country. He worshipped his family and forgave their faults for the ones who had any. But now…

He began softly singing a lullaby and rocking her to sleep. Selena fell asleep, clutching onto his finger and not wanting to remove her hand. Neither did Robert.

* * *

The royal Christening approached.

"Isn't this exciting?" The TV presenter declared, excited herself. "The world's latest glimpse of Prince William, Prince Andrew and Princess Selena. Their names have already been announced and now it's been confirmed: Prince William- or Will as he is known- will take his father's place on the throne someday, and the family are staying together and in Britain! This is wonderful, it's exciting and it's clearly a triumph of true love and the bonds of family."

Cyrus swilled liquor. Ouzo from the queen's native Greece. It wasn't so bad.

So, Veruca was planning for them to be grandparents soon. He pitied the poor sods who would get stuck to his daughters. He pitied his daughters for having to bear their children and getting shoved out of their bubbles. He pitied the brats they would be bearing and it was likely with his two idiots of his loins that the babies would die before they were even past their first two months. He rolled his eyes and downed the bottle.

Speaking of babies… For once, the relentless Cyrus found himself asking: did he really fail so bad? Was Queen Aglaia right in saying that the parents were instrumental in forming their children? Was it his own screw-ups that ruined his daughters and turned them into idiots? Was it Veruca's? Or both?

And what of Simon, the little boy he had with Prudence? He'd been so determined to shape this boy into the future king of England. He hoped at least that Prudence would raise him well. She took the engagement ring with her. That alone was worth millions. It could provide for them rather well. Or Helena made sure of that, knowing her.

Cyrus resolved to get very, very drunk, even more so than usual.

* * *

"I'm amazed you're producing enough milk," her mother retorted. "To feed one baby, let alone three." She pushed a plate of food in her daughter's direction.

"Eat." Queen Anastasia commanded. "You might be queen here, but I am still your mother."

Aglaia sighed and picked up a fork. "How's Father?"

"He's fine." Anastasia stated. Aglaia had been sending regular videos of the babies' development. Selena was the first to start smiling- who knew babies could smile at nine days old?

"I'm just here to see how things are getting along. After all, even though we both know my daughter is extremely experienced when it comes to caring for babies and small children, I still would like to look after _her."_

Aglaia sighed. "Robert's the one who makes sure I'm eating enough. And when one of the children start crying, I get up only to have him admonish me and he goes to the baby himself. Him or the nannies. Honestly, I'm not made of glass."

The food Anastasia had prepared herself was a _tiropita_ or cheese pastry/pie, _Apáki_ (lean pork marinated in vinegar, smoked with aromatic herbs and packed in salt) lamb _Giouvetsi_ baked with _hilopites_ \- small square noodles. There was also a great deal of cheese.

"Why all the cheese? Still think I need more milk for the babies?"

"Of course," Anastasia remarked. "And besides, your mother-in-law can't cook to save her life." That was against everything Greek, apparently. Even though Anastasia had been born in Denmark, the daughter of the previous king, she lived and breathed for Greece.

Aglaia smiled, shaking her head. That admittedly was true, about Helena. She couldn't cook. Neither could Eleanor. Last Christmas, a pregnant Aglaia had decided to make the dinner herself, much to her in-laws' shock and surprise. She had also dismissed the staff and did the decorations herself. Even Len admitted it looked lovely. They all wished Simon was there.

"Why so much food though, Mother, I've only just lost weight," she said. Aglaia smiled. "But thank you. For coming over. For seeing me and trying so desperately hard to look after me, even though I'm far away. But please," Aglaia took a deep breath. "No more medicine. Or bugging."

"Alright," her mother sighed. "If you say so. Now, please eat."

Aglaia ate to appease her mother, but she didn't realise just how hungry she was until she did eat. She missed Greek cooking. Although her mother gave her two cooks- one Chinese and the other Greek- she normally ate British food, plus she missed her mother's cooking and the one she got at the King's Estate in Athens. Plus she didn't realise that she was as drained as energy as she was. In times like these, and others, she was exceptionally glad her mother would be there to pick her up when she fell, like when she was little.

Aglaia never took her parents for granted, but now being a mother herself made it all the more meaningful.

"The babies are healthy, I take it?" Queen Anastasia enquired.

"Yes, Mother they are." "Hmmm." She looked thoughtful. Placing her well-manicured hands on the chair in front of her, Aglaia remembered at their wedding both the queen of Greece and Helena dowager queen of England had been hotly debated about who was 'the hottest mother'. Age barely showed on Anastasia but she viewed the idea of Botox with disgust, even more so plastic surgery. She had secrets which she passed down to her daughter, one of which was a rare melon which took longer in decaying than other melons and fruits. The extracts were made into lotions, creams, facial masks and so forth. She also bathed in icy water every day, exercised and ate moderately though healthily.

"Did you know that Alexios, now that he's engaged, is planning to move into _Foliá tou liontarioú?"_ Her mother questioned. That translated to 'The Lair of the Lion.

Aglaia swallowed her mouthful. "That place? The one grandfather brought for…" For her uncle who never got the chance to move in because he was killed during the civil war.

"Yes," Anastasia said calmly. "And what about Cyrus?"

"What about him?" Aglaia asked, warily. She could sense where this was coming.

"Why is he still here?" Anastasia said in a deadly-calm voice.

Aglaia took a deep breath. "Why wouldn't he still be here?" She responded just as calm. "He has a right to be here."

"The younger brother of the late king," Anastasia continued. "The uncle of the current king. Now sixth in line for the throne, following your triplets, your brother and sister-in-law. Unlike them, however, Cyrus is already married. Isn't that what usually happens when a prince or princess marries- or any other family member royal or otherwise? They _move out?"_

Aglaia put down her knife and fork. "Mother," she said warningly.

"He was the son of a king. He was the brother of a king. He is the uncle of a king. He even served as king of the UK-"

"Served?" Her mother scoffed. She laughed mockingly. "Since when has Cyrus ever served anybody but himself? Since when has Cyrus loved anybody other than himself? What kind of king is that? Tell me? What kind of prince also does that? What kind of person do you think Cyrus is to deserve any royal treatment after he has destroyed his own family, torn them apart, humiliated and disgraced his own nephew and niece to take the throne and did not even mourn his brother's loss? After using his royal status to abuse those poor women? To kill a man?" She loathed him. "Tell me, can you even call him a _minor_ royal?"

Aglaia was silent. "Besides, he _was_ a king. He isn't anymore. Kings who abdicate their thrones have always left. Usually the country. Gone somewhere, perhaps the south of France? He has been dethroned and disgraced, revealed to be a liar and a glory-seeker who doesn't care if he destroys his own family and forgets his own brother to gain the throne. I heard King Simon's remains are somewhere in the sea. Or was it the Thames? All of this to prevent them from carrying out any real DNA testing. So, tell me, what kind of brother does that? He cannot even be called a _man."_ Anastasia said vehemently. "And he _lied_. Lied to his own people, betrayed them, his family and worse. Cyrus is the worst king ever to sit on Britain's throne. At least Henry VIII and Richard III were kinder by far. Cyrus has never even gone to battle, but he wears uniform. No king, in any history in the world, has ever done as badly as Cyrus Henstridge has. Not even the ones who had their heads cut off and their monarchies overthrown by revolution."

Silence.

"Besides," her mother said, continuing. "Even if I didn't marry your father and became a Greek princess, then queen, did you think I would still be hanging around the Amalienborg Palace in Copenhagen at my age? Or Cyrus' age? Your uncle Valdemar, my second brother, no longer lives there. His brother is the king. And he's infinitely a much better man than that worthless Cyrus. Get him out, Aglaia."

Aglaia shook her head. "Cyrus must be kept under close guard and watched meticulously." She stated. "Unless we have a very good reason, we cannot evict him. Nor strip him of all titles and bar him from the line of succession as you all wish in Europe. The scandal that would cause would be too enormous. We're trying to mend the family and move the monarchy forwards. And like it or not, he is still family. The crown must be protected, almost as much as the country."

"As long as there is a Cyrus Henstridge," Anastasia cut in. "There will always be a rot in the crown." She warned.

* * *

Robert had heard everything. Thank goodness they had the grace to speak in English. His Greek had not gone so far yet. His Danish was practically non-existent. But now he had recorded everything.

He ordered the recording to be placed in Cyrus rooms. Call him… Well, cold, even heartless towards his own uncle, but Cyrus needed a reality check. Everyone wanted him gone. But Robert, truth be told, still remembered his uncle...

* * *

The babies had reached their first month. They were very healthy and well-looked after. In one more month their Christening would commence.

Unfortunately Jasper would be spending a great deal of time with the nannies as Eleanor would be as well.

Seriously, _what_ were these nannies made of? Pure sugar?

Nannies Marge, Pam and Stacy were excellent at their job, admittedly.

Robert and Aglaia regarded the babies in their nurseries.

Will was observantly gazing up at his parents. There was a clear intelligence and an awareness in his gaze.

"Go to sleep, my love," his mother cooed at him. "Go to sleep." She gently swayed the rocking bassinet. Will looked up at her with dark blue eyes, like a midsummer's night, so like his father.

Robert moved closer to his son. The baby looked knowingly up at him.

"I swear, he's smarter than I ever thought he'd be," Robert mused.

"He won't be spoiled, though." Aglaia stated. "Though Heavens knows, he already has so many presents, they all do. Who gives babies rattles made of white gold and encrusted with sapphires?"

Robert snorted. "He has you," he said softly. "He has both of us." She smiled at him. "They all do."

Robert heaved out a sigh. "But such a crazy world," he muttered. Aglaia began humming and softly singing a lullaby to make him sleep.

"I'll go check on Andrew and Selena," Robert said softly once Will's eyes had shut. Aglaia nodded. "I'll come." Robert shook his bed. "Go to sleep, love. You'll need it." He kissed her.

Robert moved out. After checking on Andrew and Selena who were both peacefully sleeping, he made his way to the study.

Robert closed his eyes for a while.

"I take it things are mostly going well with the babies," his mother-in-law's voice said dryly.

Robert opened them. Anastasia made her way to the doors and shut them both, locking them. She also turned on some opera music, which was strange, because Robert didn't normally listen to opera music.

Robert looked suspicious. "What's this?" He asked.

"Cyrus." Anastasia stated. "I know it's too big a scandal to start something new. But I'd rather not wait until he's endangered or dishonoured you, my daughter and the children. You have to get rid of them."

Robert sighed. "It's not that simple. Alexios?"

Anastasia turned on the computer screen. Alexios stood right there. And Dimitri.

And his father-in-law, King Konstantinos. There was also someone else there. No, make that two.

"Your majesties," Robert greeted his father-in-law and wife's uncle, the Danish king. "Your royal highnesses". The extra person must have been the Crown Prince of Denmark. He had seen him briefly at the wedding.

"Your majesty. Prudence is with us, but of course, forgive us if she cannot join in the conversation."

Robert's brow furrowed. "She's working for you now?"

The Crown Prince of Denmark nodded. "And she and her son are happy and safe. She's started a relationship with another member of our staff. I believe she is very happy where she is."

"That's good to know. I assume you're here to talk about Cyrus?" Robert asked.

"Apparently." The king of Denmark replied. "A new scandal would shake the monarchy in your country, and ours by extension." That was Dimitri. "But a scandal that's already passed? The false DNA tests on your brother and sister as a matter of fact, the one that never took place, but 'confirmed' Prince Liam and Princess Eleanor as not being descendants of King Simon? Are you sure your uncle had nothing to do with that?"

Robert sighed. "Family can be so difficult if you can't completely hate or love them." He stated regretfully. "What would any of you do if he was _your_ uncle?"

"My brother-in-law asks a good question," Dimitri mused. "But nonetheless he is still a danger to our sister and the children."

"Your majesty, forgive me if I say that I was more than a little concerned and alarmed when I heard about your engagement to my niece." The king of Denmark stated. "She is the family favourite," the crown prince, his son stated dryly. "No joke. If anything were to happen to her, most of the royals in the world and the masses, related, friends or simply citizens would rise up."

"And I would do anything and everything to keep her and the children safe." Robert's voice was steely.

"What about your own family, Robert?" Dimitri questioned. "Would you expel your treacherous uncle?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I would expel Cyrus," Robert said without hesitation. "But I cannot without reason. Besides, Aglaia does not approve of me doing as such either."

"Aglaia is innocent in such matters," Queen Anastasia cut in. "She is remarkably intelligent and aware of many things, but she cannot do what needs to be done in this case."

"I agree." Konstantinos finally spoke. "But I also know that until the concern is great enough, firstly Aglaia, the children and you yourself-" he nodded at Robert. "Must be kept under close guard- by the ones you are certain to trust. Keep Cyrus close and watch him. And not just him, his wife and his daughters. As unlikely as they are, they are unwitting pawns in this."

"Keep in close contact," Alexios stated. "And remember during the Christening, many royals will be there, it would be a good idea to make sure Cyrus is there too, and watched."

Robert nodded. "That I will do. Thank you, your majesties, your royal highnesses."

"But make sure, at the end of the day, Cyrus is gone." Alexios stated, his eyes like steel.

The screens went black.

* * *

 _A few years ago…_

Aglaia was shaking her head.

"Aglaia," he said urgently, rushing towards her. She breathed out. "Don't." She stated.

He looked anguished. "What do you want me to say?"

She looked up at him and the agony in her eyes ripped him apart.

"Is it true?" She asked quietly. "Your sister's relationship, Kathryn…" She shook her head. "And Willow?"

Robert paused.

"And Liam?" She said quietly. "Robert… I thought you were better than this," she insisted.

Robert took a shaking breath. "Now you know the deepest part of me," he stated. "I'm torn without you. I'm destroying myself and all those around me. I played the part of a picture-perfect prince when my father was still alive. But I hated it. I hated how I went about. Day after day, night after night. Protocol, rules, expectations. I hated it. Then my plane got hijacked and I ended up on a desert island. I was alone. I had never been so alone in my whole life. Nor did I feel so abandoned. After all I had done, I felt that even my family had given up on me. And my country. And so I gave up on _them_. Or rather, I tried." His dark blue eyes were anguished. "I had very little hope. For love, for life… Anything. And that hope was dashed as soon as I arrived back home. Of course I expected what happened to happen. But not with Liam, my younger brother. He seemed to hate me. And maybe he did. But not as much as I hate myself. I took the crown and I hated it, just as much as I felt I needed to." He swallowed.

"And then you came. You were so… Light. So pure, so bright… Everything I never dreamed could be in such a rotten world." He sighed. "I fell in love with you. You want the truth? It's that I'm madly, utterly and completely in love with you, and if I have to give up the throne, the kingdom, the monarchy, anything… I would. For you. If you go to the other end of the world, I would follow you there. If you died, I would die too. If your face was destroyed and every part of you, I would still love you, more than the world can possibly imagine. There's nothing I wouldn't give up for you. Or give to you. I would leave this rotten world, or destroy it as long as I could be with you." He swallowed, looking straight into her eyes. "You are everything to me, the only thing in this broken, rotten world of mine worth living and fighting for. I've lost all hope, all pretences, all expectations and dreams… But you. You I can never let go. Even if it kills me."

Aglaia stared at him. There he was, the proud prince and king… Confessing this to her. Love and sorrow. Guilt and regret. Destroyed hopes and dreams. His deepest, darkest secrets. Why? Because she knew. They had both fallen in love. And could not be without each other, because they needed one another.

And nothing else existed for them, now. Not anymore.

Robert knew. She was his life, his destiny, his fate, his future. Not a crown.

His love, hope and light.

"I love you," he stated. "More than anything. More than life. More than the world. More than my own soul and heart."

She was silent for a while. His heart was pounding, his eyes burning with an intense mixture of intense agony and powerful, limitless love.

"I love you," she finally admitted. "I love you, Robert. That is the truth, there is no other way."


	12. Chapter 12

**To Superdani4Ever: Wow, Robbie as Zeus. Who knew? But Alexios is smarter than Ares.**

 **Well, Prince George and Princess Charlotte of the UK did wear a replica of the gown their father wore as a baby because the lace which was commissioned by Queen Victoria is just too fragile now. The twin prince and princess of Monaco wore Dior Christening gowns, not heirlooms. It's Prince George's case for Robert's triplets, the lace was just too fragile. I think Helena might have considered the twins' gowns to be suitable for use either, as there are not that many royal twins and she might have used two that aren't necessarily in the best condition either.**

 **Of course- now they give a new meaning to super-nannies! But Anastasia is actually savvier than Helena just a little: she's had more training and experience as a princess in Denmark then Greece and then as queen. She knows her own children well and gets along with them, she knows how to do PR.**

 **No, the orange beast will not be featured here, I promise, though they might mention him a few times (sorry to any fans, but I don't think people generally like him).**

 **No, Dimitri would** _ **never**_ **go for Penelope or Maribel- ever! Even when dead-drunk. He's too damned smart! But he does go for someone. ;)**

 **Yeah, the poor doctor. She knew her treatments were among the best in the world, no joke, but she never imagined she would get herself into the mess that is Penelope, Maribel and their parents.**

 **Aglaia lives a healthy lifestyle (as compared to the two cousins mentioned why in the previous chapter). She maintains a good figure that's a balance between curves and slimness. And of course, Robert worships her.**

 **Yes, there's a flashback here! Or maybe something else… ;)**

 **Speaking of which: documentary profile coming up soon where the family learns more about Aglaia- to their surprise.**

 **No- no more. Besides after placing the bug on Robert's desk and sitting room table- and the couch- they've had enough and no one can blame them!**

* * *

 **If Music be the Food of Love, Play On, Give me Excess of It… The Appetite may Sicken and so Die**

The royal Christening dawned on a day bright and clear.

Royals from around the world were attending- not so much out of the hospitality of the Henstridges as for the popularity and the affection they held for the new queen and king.

Princesses Penelope and Maribel were picking at each other's clothing and bickering- same as usual.

In the meantime, the guests were pouring in. Many wore crisp and fresh morning suits, some pale coloured, some dark. Women wore floaty florals or bold short knee-length dresses, coats or skirt suits. Many of them wore hats, brilliant fascinators by milliners like Philip Treacy the genius.

Unfortunately the person whom Princess Penelope and Princess Maribel picked to design their hats for them wasn't the most brilliant.

And there was someone new in town.

A young, beautiful Asian woman stepped out of her limo. She had an oval face with very pale, jasmine-coloured skin which stood in sharp, frosty contrast to her black hair, gleaming and shining like faceted obsidian. Her eyes scanned the palace coolly, almost disdainfully, before making her way forwards.

Aglaia was dressed in an exquisite apricot dress bordered and accented with gold. Instead of a hat, she chose to wear flowers- a fluted headpiece of cream-coloured blossoms, like a bandeau.

Her hair shone and glowed with the vitality if polished jet, artfully draped down one side in a cascade like a waterfall. Her skin glowed fresh and radiant. Birth and motherhood only served to make her even more beautiful than was truly fair and could possibly ever take place in a human's imagination. It had deepened those famous liquid, almond, emerald eyes and brought a rose hue on her cheeks. She was the most heartbreakingly, devastatingly beautiful person anyone had ever seen and nobody- repeat, _nobody_ \- could ever take their eyes off her. Not a single person that saw her did not have their breath stolen from their very lungs and could remember how to breathe. She was so radiant, it actually hurt for Robert to look at. Everybody else's jaws dropped and he actually wondered how they would be able to go without oxygen.

Her smiled just made her shine even more. To his unbearable distaste and secret anger, there had been talks that Captain Dimitriou would be there, but thank God that he had opted to stay out of it. Robert's only regret was that he couldn't arrange for an 'accident' with that man, but Alexios was undeniably smart. He knew Robert would probably kill him, even in cold blood.

The Christening was a milestone for royalty. It always was. Now that William, Andrew and Selena were to be Christened into the Church of England, this signified that they would be first, second and third- undisputedly- in line for the British throne. Unless something monumental- God forbid- happened and they would be required to convert to Greek Orthodoxy, and William would take the Greek throne- or maybe just Andrew or Selena, they would be remaining. And Aglaia would be Robert's queen- nothing could change that- ever.

The Asian woman strode through the halls of the palace, surprisingly not surrounded by bodyguards, which was astounding as to other members of her own social rank that would be equal to suicide as walking through a hailstorm of bullets in the Henstridges' own home. Or straight into a nuclear bunker which was about to launch.

But this was no ordinary woman.

She headed straight for the nursery, and her bearing and charisma was as such that no one dared, even to think about questioning her.

Her Imperial Highness Princess Mizuki of Akishino would be the babies' unofficial guardian- she could not pledge and stand at the font because she was a Shinto and not a member of any Christian denomination but she would be taking her unofficial duties no less seriously.

Goodness knows the babies and their parents were going to need it.

Aglaia had just finished dressing up the babies in their Christening gowns. They were now two months old. They'd been fed, burped and changed, bathed before the big occasion. Now they looked extremely fetching in their exquisite costumes.

Aglaia was picking them up and taking measures for the babies not to soil their robes before putting them in the perambulator especially made for the triplets. It had the royal crest emblazoned on it.

"Who knew," Mizuki interrupted the calm silence. Aglaia turned up in surprise. "That you would be holding your own children? I always thought you wanted a religious life?"

Aglaia smiled and went to greet her. "I did," she said, kissing her on both cheeks. "But something changed." Mizuki smiled.

Temple life and a spiritual existence dedicated to a higher being was something they both longed for at one stage. But due to the country's lack of succession Aglaia could not take the veil and become a nun like she wanted to. Mizuki on the other hand could become a _Miko_ \- a Shinto priestess or Shrine Maiden.

"Now," Mizuki announced. "Where are the babies- which ones are which?" She asked brightly.

"Well," Aglaia began. "This is William Simon Alexander Constantine." She gestured to Will. "We call him Will. This is Andrew Dimitri Philip Edward. And this is Selena Sophia Anastasia Helene." Mizuki smiled down at the infants. Selena cooed. Mizuki's smile was warm, but her eyes were… Clever. These kids were living in a viper's nest. She needed to safeguard them- Aglaia's children.

* * *

The Christening guests attended and Aglaia came, pushing the pram. Occasionally one of the babies would be picked up and carried by Mum or Dad.

Cyrus rolled his eyes. He looked terrible. His face was sallow, his eyes were rimmed red and the colour itself was washed out.

The nannies strolled along in their uniforms, humming to themselves.

Willow looked lovely in an emerald knee-length dress with a cropped black jacket, a fascinator that flattered her face with gauzy leaves dangling at the front left side. Her brown hair was glossy and went loose to her shoulders. Aglaia smiled radiantly when she saw her. Willow flushed very deeply.

Aglaia had to be the most wonderful woman she ever met. Willow admittedly felt like she was bathed in light every time she saw her. That was more than what she could say for anyone else, including Helena.

Prince Dimitri stepped out as well. He was beautiful as well, though his sister shone so brightly it was seemingly impossible to get over her mere presence. She could not help but stare. He had features that were between beautiful in a feminine fashion and outright handsome in a masculine way; smooth fair skin with a hint of a bronzed honey tan, obviously Mediterranean, straight, fine Grecian profile, chiselled cheekbones and mouth. His eyes were liquid, very deep and clear and like jade, not quite the emerald of his sister's. It was a stark contrast to his dark, smooth hair that Willow admittedly, found it tempting to run her fingers through. He had looked that could capture and enchant all the same.

As soon as Dimitri saw her, he broke into the most handsome and brightest grin. Willow felt her own face burning. Seriously? Those Greek royals!

"Ah, there she is… The beautiful and totally spectacular Wilhelmina," Dimitri smiled charmingly.

"Well, ahem, actually it's just Willow," Willow struggled to regain her composure, which was practically impossible.

"Well, named after a beautiful tree, as graceful as could be, of course, it suits you the best." Dimitri stated, looking straight into her eyes.

"Dimitri," Aglaia rebuked softly. She had an affectionate, but exasperated look in her eyes.

"My apologies, little sister. I don't think it is possible to _not_ admire Willow, here." Dimitri remarked.

"No, I don't think it is possible either," Aglaia admitted quietly. "I did name William after her and Liam. If he has half his godmother's intelligence and bravery… Safe to say, none of the babies would have been here if it weren't for her and you." She looked straight at Willow.

Gosh, could Willow feel any more abashed than she already was?

"Right." Aglaia sighed. "I think the ceremony should commence before one of the babies become fussy from the long wait." Dimitri nodded solemnly. Willow was relieved. She was just too embarrassed. "Are all the godparents here?"

"Well…" Dimitri began. "There's me and Willow here," he winked charmingly at her. "Alexios and Artemisia are at the entrance. There's your bodyguard, and not to mention, the babies other uncle and aunt." He didn't look overly pleased at that, and Willow did note that he didn't think too much of Liam. His unbelievably attractive face clouded over and she wondered why.

Suddenly, Liam appeared, dressed in a suit.

Eleanor trailed behind him with Jasper. Len sighed. "Now, I really, _really_ wish Dad was here." Her father would have loved nothing more than to hold his grandkids on this special day.

Just then someone else appeared: Beck.

Jasper froze as he realised just who he would be sharing godparenting duties with. Len barely noticed Beck's arrival and went off to greet her mother.

Penelope and Maribel appeared in the chapel, looking hopelessly lost and confused. Their mother appeared behind them, dressed in a stylish hat and skirt suit, in a similar cream or eggshell shade to her second wedding. It made her red hair even more striking. The girls' outfits had been toned down to what they would normally wear, thanks to her intervention. She needed them to appear as attractive as possible, though their hats were sadly lacking in sensibility.

However, she did notice the suspicious, and even outright hostile gazes or at least very cool ones, she received from other royalty, politicians and even celebrities. Elton John was supposed to be performing and he was keeping his distance. Veruca's eyes tightened momentarily before she fixed a brilliant smile. No one could blame her girls. Unlike Cyrus, their name had not been stained. Therefore, she would get her chance.

Extreme dieting had left Penelope and Maribel both sleepy and starving- which meant that they would be less likely to open their mouths and say something… Regrettable. All men liked a wilting flower, Veruca was sure. Their faces were thinner and more attractive. They still had enough meat on them for men to like, but they were slim. Good. Just the way she wanted… Only that they might be sitting near Cyrus. Veruca frowned. No, that simply would not do.

Cyrus had had a bad reputation now with the other royals. Whether her girls were going to be queen in England or anywhere else, they needed to not be associated with his bad reputation.

Veruca pasted a smile on her face. "Come along girls," she ushered them.

The babies were cooing. Aglaia picked up William and gave him to his father. Selena and Andrew were held by her, until Eleanor came forwards and took Andrew.

The Christening commenced. The babies' names were officially given out and the priest poured water on their heads. Andrew howled but Will and Selena barely showed any discontent.

Liam was silent as he held Andrew and the water was poured onto his head. He saw how radiant and breathtakingly beautiful Aglaia looked, practically heart-breaking really, and how Robert and she looked at each other and the babies.

Liam had never really thought about children. Funny, but it was true. But now… He could see why Robert shone. Not the throne, not the crown, not the spotlight, but the love he had, his wife and children. He didn't need anything else.

He very carefully, like Aglaia had taught him, gently supported the baby's head as he tipped Andrew upwards. His nephew gave him a terrible scowl like he wanted to break Liam's face, but thankfully did not howl further.

As soon as that was over, congratulations poured in. Mizuki was the first, followed by various other peoples. Andrew squirmed and hissed- could babies _hiss?_ Liam wasn't sure. He eyed Liam like he wanted to crush him- which really shouldn't have been possible since he was just still an infant.

* * *

Willow beamed as she was photographed with Will.

Liam caught saw her and didn't realise how much she glowed. He was surprised. But then again with Aglaia…

Suddenly someone strode over.

"And there's my nephew and the Wonderful Willow," Prince Dimitri gave a grin that would cause many women swooning. Liam felt a powerful rush of irritation flood through him. "My lovely Willow and my handsome nephew… You make such a perfect pair. Do you mind if I cut in?" He asked, charmingly.

Willow blushed, causing Liam to want to scowl. "Of course, your highness."

"Please." Dimitri looked straight into her eyes when he said this. "I would prefer it very much if you called me Dimitri." He wasn't as playful or flirtatious when he said this. In fact he seemed… Sincere.

 _Damn,_ Liam thought, for some reason, scowling. He hoped he wasn't going red. His nephew eyed him knowingly… And was that a little amusement?

He felt like breaking Dimitri in two, but somehow, he knew that Dimitri would be the one to break _him._ And he didn't fancy being broken.

A photographer took a snapshot of Prince Dimitri with Willow, carrying Prince William Henstridge. They smiled. "Thank you for agreeing to be my nephews' and niece's godmother," Dimitri said quietly. "He needs someone strong and intelligent- like you." He said quietly.

"He has his mother," Dimitri looked at her sadly. "Aglaia might be like that, but even she's not invincible. Honestly, you did save her life and the world she lives in now…" He shook his head. "It was a quiet life in Greece. Now it's all gilded walls and family drama. And shootings. You're like, the only pure and safe thing here. Wonderful, really." He looked her in the eye. "It's like everything else has started to rot. This world… Isn't a good one. But you make it good."

Willow didn't know how to respond to that. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Dimitri nodded. "For someone who is unappreciated for all that you do, I think you deserve by far, so much more than that. You deserve to be happy and to be appreciated. Tell me, am I good enough for you?" He asked, only half-joking.

Willow laughed nervously.

"Am I?" Dimitri asked quietly.

Liam stared. His jaw was near dropping when Willow met Dimitri's eyes on her again, to find that he had not moved his gaze from her face.

 _Shit._

* * *

"Beck," Eleanor stated. "Eleanor," Beck smiled. He and Jasper eyed each other with mutual distaste. But concealed on Jasper's part.

"So _Aunt_ Eleanor now," Beck announced. "And godmother." Eleanor smiled.

"Yup," she announced proudly. "That's me." The godparents were taking photos with the babies. Eleanor was holding Selena. "Shall we?" Beck gestured. He stood between Eleanor holding Selena and Jasper, the latter who looked far from pleased. The photographer captured the moment. Beck looked almost smug.

"Right," Len stated. "I have to hand this little princess back to her mother, or her Dad, so…"

"I'll come with you," Beck said. Jasper scowled and followed, much to Beck's distaste, but he concealed it this time.

"So… What are your plans?"

"Hm?" Eleanor asked, turning towards him.

"What are you planning to do after this?" Beck persisted.

Eleanor gazed at Aglaia with Robert receiving presents. Will had been given back by Willow and Dimitri, Liam had given Andrew back as well, and they were both resting in the pram, which weirdly enough, was gold-plated with a little chandelier mobile. Seriously? Who sent that? The guy in the White House?

"Well, I'm going my own way," Eleanor decided. "I've decided to help Aglaia with the babies and with her various organisations. There's one that tends to improve the public standard of children's education and health in schools, and there's one that helps kids in foster care and after they've left it. She tends to delve rather deeply in that, and… I think I want to do that." She smiled down tenderly at Selena. "I think I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to her, so I think I'll go."

Beck looked at her, trying to mask his surprise. "Auntie-hood becomes you," he stated, rather seriously. Eleanor laughed. "And so does godmother-hood. I think you'll do great. You always did tackle and live life to the fullest. This is just different, but I think you'll do great." Len smiled at him.

"Thank you." Behind them, Jasper had a face like a thunderstorm.

To make things worse, the nannies came whistling in. Great, just great.

* * *

At the party, Veruca instructed her girls to smile. "Smile," she advised them.

The girls did just that. But Maribel was nodding away and nearly tipped over.

Veruca hissed at her. The girls jumped slightly. Two months of waking up early and eating healthy food in prescribed quantities, no drugs and alcohol, apart from the Chinese medicines their mother gave them from time to time, had taken its toll.

"There's someone coming." Veruca hissed through her perfect teeth.

That someone was a tall, blond and handsome prince from Norway. He gave them a cool stare, unimpressed. Veruca was smart enough to shrink back.

Cyrus guzzled a bottle full of liquor down at the bar, oblivious to the other guests' look of distaste.

Thankfully, he was at a distance away, Veruca realised.

Unfortunately, the prince instead went straight to another girl- a model by the looks of it. Veruca scowled inwardly. Next up came the prince of Sweden. He gave an outright grimace when he saw Veruca and the girls and Veruca resisted the temptation to throw something at him.

"Right." She almost growled. "Come on."

The girls reluctantly followed her and she led them to where the royal couple stood with their babies.

" _Hellooo,"_ she trilled. Aglaia looked up, and so did Robert. "Aunt Veruca." He said. She was his aunt again. "Please," he gestured to a seat opposite them. They were sitting with a group of people, including their godparents.

"Oh, no thank you, your majesty," she fake-simpered. "I need to get going and find my husband. But these two would love to stay, don't you, my darlings?" Penelope and Maribel gave dopey, sleepy looks. "Right then," Veruca placed a firm hand on one shoulder each and pushed- more like, shoved- them both down. "Off I go."

Aglaia's eyebrows were up, but she quickly managed to continue the conversation.

She knew how to keep the conversation going: she had been well-trained. Even if you had all the social abilities of a bean, she knew how to make conversation.

"Penelope," she smiled brilliantly. "Maribel. We are truly glad you could come."

Robert nodded politely. "It's been a while," he remarked. Andrew stopped fussing and he looked to be sleeping. Aglaia gently put him back in the pram and picked up a squeaking, smiling Selena.

"We didn't think you'd make it, my husband said we barely managed to see you around nowadays." Aglaia admitted. "Even before his coronation and during your father's."

Mizuki's- the Japanese princess- head snapped up when she heard that.

So these were Cyrus' daughters.

The other royals and other famous persona sitting around the king and queen exchanged dark looks with one another.

"I barely ever saw you, let alone met you," Aglaia kept going. "All I ever heard was from Robert." She smiled. "I certainly hope we will be able to see more of you soon. Your cousins speak rather well and fondly of you." She said sincerely and gently. She felt rather bad for them, having Cyrus as a father. That can't have been easy for the girls' reputations, never mind it was hardly their fault.

"Eleanor misses you," she stated. Eleanor blinked. She did? Right- she did!

"That's right!" Len spoke up. "So tell me, what do you girls enjoy doing, that we can invite you sometime soon?" Aglaia asked, politely.

It seemed like she totally missed the way everybody around her stared at her in disbelief. They practically did not understand Aglaia's sudden, but sweet innocence. Aglaia generated this aura that made people want to love her- mostly romantic, but also familial love- and protect her. And these were Cyrus' daughters!

Robert drank from his glass, eyes not blinking, staring out into the distance.

Len looked… Hopelessly lost. She knew what Penelope and Maribel liked doing, and it wasn't something Aglaia could ever bring them to.

She and Liam exchanged looks.

"And your father- I think we need to have more gatherings," Aglaia laughed softly. "This Christmas, for example, it's fast approaching. And of course, you're going to have to come. But I didn't see your father last Christmas." She frowned wonderingly.

"Robert also mentions that you weren't there the Christmas before that when your father was there."

"Oh-" Penelope spoke up. "We barely spend time with Dad- or rather- Dad barely spends time with us. He just… Doesn't like us." She said, without thinking. Or rather, without knowing what could possibly be wrong with that sentence.

Everybody froze. "He's too busy being king- or rather, being former king now that Robbie's in charge," Maribel put in, blinking away sleep, and drinking from a glass.

"Really," Robert leaned forwards. "So… How often do you see your father? I mean now that your parents are living together again…" He trailed off, expectantly.

"Well…" The sisters looked at each other. "He's mostly drunk and passed out most of the time, Mum has to be the one to get him out of bed and into the shower."

Everybody apart from the poised king and queen, leaned back, like _Too much information_.

"Besides, he's always called us, like the _two idiots of my loins_ or something like that." Penelope continued.

"Or the Half-Wits," Maribel put in, dopily.

"Oh." Aglaia said quietly. "I'm _very_ sorry to hear about that girls." She stated.

"Well, it appears that _Prince_ Cyrus would prefer to spend his time at the bar but I for one am glad you girls are here." She continued.

"I agree." Robert said. He and his wife were up to something that was what most people didn't know.

He put on a smile. So Veruca wanted them to be married? Very well, then. Married off to royalty, bearing royal heirs? Fine. He wouldn't get in their way.

Now Selena was almost sleeping from her mother's rocking. Robert picked her up gently and she nuzzled against him, comfortably.

Veruca wouldn't realise she would lose her two most important weapons, he decided. And neither would Cyrus. They didn't deserve to have children, anyway.

He smiled brightly. "Now, girls, there are a number of people we would like to introduce you to…"

* * *

"So…" Dimitri began. "Life in the spotlight, then? Not something you want?" He asked gently.

Willow shook her head. She laughed nervously. "No. I mean, no offence or anything, but I… I'm not an attention seeker."

Dimitri nodded seriously, not taking his eyes off her. "I understand." He said quietly. "I wasn't always second-in-line for the throne, you know."

"Yes, I heard." Willow said softly. She had done some research on Dimitri's family. It was too horrifying to comprehend. She couldn't sleep after learning what Metaxas and others had done.

"And all of a sudden, things change. But they don't always give you the credit you deserve," Dimitri said quietly. His liquid jade eyes bore into hers. "Especially Helena. You didn't do what was expected of you, and should be congratulated for that. You did your country a great service and Liam a great honour: a far greater honour than he deserves. I don't mean that he's a bad person, but if he forgets the service and honour you gave him so quickly and Helena simply acts like you did what was expected of you to do, then maybe they don't deserve you." He stated. "I know what it's like to have your country crumble down to the dirt and ripped apart by dogs because of the whims of selfish men and women. Royal or not, you helped prevent that and no one should ever forget that: Aglaia won't and I never will." He finished firmly.

Willow opened her mouth, but couldn't manage to say anything. Dimitri sighed. "I think we should be getting back." His jade-green eyes filled with regret. He gestured and when Willow nearly stumbled, his strong hand, warm through her sleeve, helped her up. "Thank you."

Dimitri smiled, but said nothing. "Will I see you again?" He asked. _"Can_ I see you again?"

Willow didn't know what to say. She only smiled. "I hope so." She said quietly. Dimitri smiled, his jade-coloured eyes twinkling not in a mischievous way, but something else entirely. Shining.

Nearby Liam watched… And he looked _shocked_ to say the very least.

* * *

"So… You're actually changing your country," Beck remarked. "The queen- the new queen- told me. She says that most of the things that happened here since she came wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for you."

Eleanor scoffed. "I think she could transform the whole world by herself for the better."

"Still," Beck insisted. "You're turning your life around and the whole world. Everything's changed and now… You're happy. Glowing. I've never seen you like this." He said. "Never. I'm glad, truly glad to see you happy." He grinned.

"And healthier than ever," Eleanor put in. "No weed. Not for Godmother Len."

Beck chuckled. "Well _Godmother Len_ , would you mind if _Godfather Beck_ escorted you back to the party?"

Eleanor snorted at the absurdity of the nicknames. "I can't set a good example to my god-kids if I'm wasted, can I?"

"Well, I think they'll have the best godmother out there now," Beck said.

Jasper saw… And he bristled.

* * *

The nannies hummed as they changed the babies back, putting aside the Christening gowns to be preserved for future royal babies.

"Is everything done yet?" James Hill asked. They smiled at him. It just made him queasy.

Meanwhile, Maribel and Penelope were getting drunk. Unfortunately while the royal couple had left, others remained.

Unfortunately some guests were getting rather drunk as well, not least their now-clearly ostracised father, Cyrus. His face was remarkably pasty and sallow, with splodges of red on his cheeks. And he just kept downing those martinis.

And no one realised just how drunk some people, of which Cyrus was only one- were getting.

Outside, someone took a tumble and fell into a pond. Several people sploshed around, trying to get her out, with little success.

* * *

Liam was boiling. For some reason her… _Ugh!_ That damned, attractive bastard! Why did he have to be one of the most handsome men in the entire cosmos?! Heck, why did the three of them have to be the world's most gorgeous brood? Not that it was something against Aglaia, but come on! _Willow?_ Why Willow? There were plenty of other girls- so many of them in fact. Why did he want to, or seek to corrupt Willow?

She was sweet and pure and kind… And wait- _did_ he want to corrupt her? Liam had seen the light of honesty shining out of Prince Dimitri's eyes and for some reason… It only made him want to smash and pummel Dimitri further.

Why? If he treated her well then…. _Because he's untrustworthy,_ Liam scolded himself. _Because you know his type: you were like that, once…_

The thought of Dimitri merely touching Willow, even skimming a finger over her soft, fair skin made Liam burn. But that wasn't it. Dimitri did not flirt that much, Liam had seen. Of course he knew a guy with looks like that would naturally attract women like iron fillings to a magnet. Not even he or Robert had that kind of sex appeal. If Aglaia was a reborn Helen of Troy, Dimitri was Adonis.

And that only made him angrier.

 _Why? Because you're kind to her,_ Liam told himself. _Because you don't want to see Willow get hurt._

But what if Dimitri was serious with Willow and treated her well? Based on what Liam had seen with Aglaia's family they generally had happy marriages and loving relationships. Compared to his parents' sham or disaster of a union, Konstantinos and Anastasia's relationship was strong and loving. They shared a genuine bond. And they must have passed on strong values and raised their daughter well, because Robert and Aglaia were as happy as could be. From what he had seen of Alexios and his new fiancée, this beautiful brunette with sapphire eyes, they were also happy and Alexios doted on her. Intimidating as he was, that was the truth. What if Dimitri genuinely wanted to have a relationship, even marriage with Willow?

Liam froze dead.

That was the last thing _he_ wanted. To see them together, to see them kissing on their wedding day on the balcony like Robert and Aglaia, to see her getting round with _Dimitri's_ child and the two of them steal a kiss on the baby's Christening and have them cuddle together, watching the sunset as their babies played by the seashore… _Whoa._

What just happened? When he just thought about it… Did he feel uncomfortable? Because she was getting cosy with Dimitri, and he might have to see glimpses of that or…

"I sense a green monster somewhere inside you," Cyrus said gleefully, making Liam jump.

"Fuck!" He swore. He glared at his smirking, snickering uncle with the pasty, waxy and splodged face, holding his ever-present impertinent glass of martini. Cyrus giggled- that's right, _giggled_ when he saw Liam.

"I saw you the whole time," he said, tauntingly. "You… Couldn't keep your eyes off your brother's wife… Or that girl with Prince Dimitri, the new godmother." He smirked. "You… Liam… Who knew you could be such a naughty boy? Well, I already knew, of course we already knew," he sniggered drunkenly. "And now you know what it's like… Big brother. You couldn't take your eyes off _his_ queen when she was around."

"No one could." Liam scoffed. That was Aglaia's power: her beauty and charisma. And her grace, poise and genuineness. Especially today when her beauty and radiance shone brighter than ever before no one could…

"You have feelings for your brother's wife, _sicko,"_ Cyrus mocked. "And then to make things worse, you have feelings for that girl who's apparently decided she's done serving you and posting your hashtags on Twitter and gone to Prince Dimitri who's welcomed her with open arms, and rumour has it, he's going to be popping a ring and a question to her sometime soon. And not just to secure the line of succession." He tumbled backwards slightly.

"Me and Violet… Simon and Domino… Now you. We're all the same, Liam. Except for Robert, we're cursed. Cursed to want the throne, cursed to want to bang you'll never have… All our days."

"I don't want the throne," Liam said coolly. Cyrus' smirk returned. "Are you sure?" He asked. He stumbled around. "Aglaia will be there… Taunting you. At least the other girl will be off to Greece soon… Though the first girl of your dreams will probably invite her to the palace often… And you'll be here and I'll be gone… Dangling the sweet treats in front of the little dog while the big dogs nibble on them all they want…"

Liam had heard enough. "You're obviously very drunk," he retorted. "And I'm not."

"Believe me, you'll wish you were drunk once this is over with," Cyrus slurred, before he fell sideways, splashing into the pond.

Liam didn't stay to see the security guards running forwards to fish him out with a stick. He left.

But he couldn't deny this… He had felt an enormous attraction, and even feelings for Aglaia ever since… Well, ever since he first saw and met her. But she was his brother's _wife!_ The mother of his children! Not just his girlfriend, and he had never seen Robert as he was with Aglaia! And then there was Willow…

Every time he thought about her and Dimitri, he felt… Anger. A green monster, he thought, grimly. Then to make things worse, someone else fell into the pond, knocking Cyrus over who was being held up by his bodyguards, soaking them.

"Seriously, who put that pond there?" Liam grumbled as he left.

"I'm afraid I don't know, sir." James Hill responded.

Unfortunately that was not the end to all the drama.

"Penelope?" Veruca trilled. "Maribel?" She frowned. She was so sure her girls were there.

"Hmm. That's strange," she wondered aloud. She tiptoed daintily, trying not to disturb the security guards trying to drag her husband out, wondering where her girls had gone off to.

She decided they went back inside. She went near their rooms. To her surprise, she found a pair of sunshine-yellow, blue-and-pink polka-dotted bra lying around in the hallway. Her girls must be close.

She kept going. A pair of knickers, pink and blue candy-striped… A bottle of gin… Make that two bottles… A weird hat with a pooping chicken… It was some kind of breadcrumb trail…

Now, to find the gingerbread house…

Veruca's eyes narrowed as she crept forwards.

And finally… The end of the treasure trail: a door. A door with a pair of panties hanging off it and someone's Calvin Kleins. Veruca grimaced delicately and gingerly used a tissue to open the door.

Inside looked like some crazy hurricane or typhoon had swept in and dumped crazy-land on it, particularly the bed. Lipstick marks and scrawls were everywhere and bottles of gin and tonic- mostly gin. A pile of clothes- seriously how many layers can one wear? Her girls were snoring, wasted and passed out… With two men.

Princes. She could smell it from the undies which had royal crests and crowns emblazoned upon it.

Veruca's eyes gleamed.

* * *

Cyrus was out of the pond. It had sobered him up a bit. Unfortunately there was a lily pad hanging from his shoulder, some frogspawn hanging from his Mohawk, and spitting weed and water out of his mouth.

What a sight the former king of England made.

Unfortunately the worst had yet to come.

Out there, somebody held a gun… And pointed it at Cyrus' head.

And fired. Only to miss when Cyrus, still suffering from the effects of alcohol, tumbled forwards and hit the pavement, snoring.

Security agents shouted the alert and began aiming their guns at the target who scrambled safely away. As if on cue, more people in ski masks dressed head to toe in black began shooting at them.

Guests screamed and ducked, running for cover. A table was throw upwards.

"Your majesty- there are assassins, sir!" Someone shouted to Robert and Aglaia who paled. Helena stood with Len and Liam.

"Get the royal family!" James Hill shouted outside. "Alert those nannies!"

But those nannies were ready. With the pram in one hand, the nannies yelled a cacophony of battle cries consisting of the word: _"NAUGHTY!"_ while a stereo for some reason, played Wagner's _Ride of the Valkyries_. Nanny Marge pushed the pram with a ferocity that made her look like a charging bull. Nanny Pam had an umbrella and Nanny Stacy wielded a magnificent frying pan. They'd been cooking, and the latter had a Nappy bag in case the babies needed a change. Pam carried bottles with her, in case they needed a feed.

In the meanwhile, on the concrete, Cyrus snored.

Yelling their battle cries- if you called it that- the nannies charged, leaping over Cyrus' snoring figure wielding their weapons and when the assassins charged, Pam gave a yell and shoved the umbrella up his groin. He yelled and doubled over. She began successfully wielding both karate skills and umbrella to good use, taking out intruders/assassins one by one.

Nanny Stacy was no less outstanding. Who knew a spatula could do so much damage? Or a diaper bag? One masked guy howled when his eye was taken out. Nanny Pam kept pushing that pram, karate-chopping and kick-boxing anyone who got in the way, intruder or otherwise.

The royals in the meantime, were being escorted to the tunnels.

"The babies!" Aglaia gasped. Robert went white as well. "You go, I'll stay," he actually grabbed out a gun. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" Aglaia shrieked.

Husband and wife raced each other to the end of the tunnel. Hill followed them.

"Your majesties!" Hill tried to reason. "Robert!" Helena and Liam raced after them followed by Len and Jasper who was wielding his gun.

But the nannies already had help. Someone appeared out of nowhere wielding a katana- a Samurai sword, and a number of weapons including Shurikens or throwing stars. She threw them at two attackers reaching the nanny, tossed a throwing knife at another and sliced a gun in half with a katana before throwing the guy backwards.

It was Mizuki- the Japanese princess. She kicked arse like a ninja- which she must have been. Nunchaku, swords, daggers, even a bamboo rod, she whizzed through the air like a pro.

Security guards kept coming but the intruders had yet to retreat- except for the ones that were injured. It was clear that they didn't want to leave any witnesses from their side or clues like dead bodies.

Aglaia and Robert raced to where the children were. "Aglaia- go _back!"_ Robert hissed. "Are you mad?!" She hissed back. "I'm not leaving the babies _or_ you-"

Robert opened his mouth to say something but he was spotted.

He shot the intruder down before he had a chance to do anything else. James Hill shot a few, and someone else- the princess from Japan- sent a throwing knife their way.

Then they spotted them: the nannies. Nanny Marge and the perambulator full of babies, kick-boxing anything in her way, Nanny Stacy with her spatula and Nanny Pam with her umbrella, heading right towards them.

They charged together, yelling, _"NAUGHTY!"_ Taking down a few assassins on the way to the parents.

Aglaia gasped and she and Robert looked at the babies. They were fine- more than fine, actually. Selena was cooing and giggling, and Will was chortling- a rare sight. Andrew meantime was flapping his arms up and down like, _Again, again, again!_ And grinning like a maniac.

Aglaia nearly collapsed in relief.

"Right," James took charge. He gestured the nannies to go back. "We'll cover you," Jasper promised and began firing his gun.

Cyrus kept snoring, forgotten on the concrete.

* * *

"Well, that was strange," James Hill shoved aside an overturned table.

"What's strange?" Jasper asked, though he knew full-well why.

"No casualties. Bullets firing everywhere, weapons involved-" he spared a glance at the cool and composed Japanese princess, the royal babies' unofficial godmother. "But no one dead either side. No dead bodies."

"Not a single one," Jasper agreed.

He and Hill exchanged grim looks.

"So what do you think it is?" Jasper asked. "A hoax?"

"Perhaps," Hill replied coolly. "Or… A threat of a different kind." He paused and stopped to stare at the snoring former king.

"Who put him here?" He wondered. Hill knelt down and shook Cyrus awake.

"Wh-what?" Cyrus asked irritably. "Can't you see that I'm miserable, dethroned, ridiculously drunk, soggy and passed out on the concrete?"

Jasper sighed.

Aglaia was holding onto her babies, Robert was speaking to various security guards and witnesses. They were both trying to calm them down- though the ones who remained were likely dead-drunk when it all happened and weren't at all traumatised.

Veruca emerged. "Yoo-hoo!" She trilled. "Cyrus, what are you doing humping the concrete?"

Penelope and Maribel had emerged, sloppy and dishevelled, but Veruca had got what she wanted.

* * *

 _Beforehand…_

"Hello, there." Veruca smirked devilishly as the princes scrambled awake.

"Wha-" the first prince jolted up. He was a handsome one, but apparently he must have been really drunk to have banged Penelope or Maribel. Why, because he scrambled backwards in shock and horror, nearly jolting the other guy forwards.

"WHAT?!" That was him. He saw the girls, his eyes widened and he fell onto the floor.

Veruca sighed. "Young love." She looked at them. "What are your names?"

"Who are you?" One of them demanded, imperiously. Veruca bristled.

"Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Essex." She murmured. "Wife of the former king Cyrus. Mother to Princess Penelope and Princess Maribel whom you just banged and humped dead-drunk apparently." The guys looked appalled and queasy. "And now, I believe I just asked you a question."

The first guy flushed. "Prince Adriaan of the Netherlands."

"I am Prince Shabangu of Swaziland." The African prince- the second one to wake- replied, haughtily. "Son of King Sobhuza."

Veruca smiled wider. "And I'm Royal Granny." And she would outdo both Helena and Anastasia in Hottest Royal Granny.


	13. Chapter 13

**To Superdani4Ever: Well it was the lack of people in the succession for the throne for Aglaia. For Mizuki it was because of people controlling the strings and more. She's going to be a very valuable ally to Aglaia and Robert. I think Elton John is smart enough to avoid Veruca and Cyrus. They all are. Len's going to have her own work starting from this chapter (and it's going to get juicier!). Cyrus and Veruca are truly the worst and they are less interested in what their children really need and caring for them, though Veruca appear to have loved them more than Cyrus does.**

 **Things are going to get juicier for Liam's story! ;)**

 **And no, while having a Norland Nanny is something parents would really want for their kids, motherhood does not automatically change a person's character- poor babies indeed.**

 **P.S: I don't own the _Royals_. It belongs to _E!_**

* * *

 **Life ... is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.**

In the aftermath of the 'assassination' attempt, security was tightened. The foreign royals had mostly left by then, which everyone was all grateful for.

Robert needless to say was concerned and suspicious when he heard there had been no casualties, no dead bodies, no prisoners… Nothing on either side. No one was kidnapped, and while there were a few injuries, no one was dead. Not a single clue.

Alexios' eyes had narrowed. His gaze met Robert's and both of them were automatically thinking of the same thing: _Cyrus._

But it made no sense giving poor Cyrus the whole blame when he himself was nearly hit. In fact, there could have been one casualty, and that could have been Cyrus had he not been passed out on the concrete, soaked from his splash in the pond.

Robert said it was strange that no one fell in the pond _after_ the attackers had arrived. James admitted it was strange too.

"Right." Robert stated. "I'm off." He had to see his wife, his children. And his sister, mother and brother too.

* * *

Aglaia had put her babies to bed.

The nurseries were quiet and peaceful, but she did not want them far from her for a long while, until the nannies stepped in and promised not to leave the babies.

In the meantime, she lay back, stunned on the chaise of her boudoir.

"I can't do this," she muttered. "I can't remember the last time I went so long without someone shooting at me… Well, actually." She sighed, closing her eyes in despair.

"I can't do this. I don't think I can do this." She whispered.

"I've only just become a mother. I love my husband and children but this is a whole new level entirely. Why do we have to have people shooting at us? Why can't we just…"

"Why can't we just be normal, you mean?" Aglaia's head swivelled to see _him._ Him with his devilishly handsome grin.

"So… I take it this marriage isn't what you thought it would be?" _He_ asked her.

"What do you want?" Aglaia whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"Do you really think that just because Robert took your virginity, made you his queen, gave you three babies and can't keep his hands off you, that means that you are going to have a happily ever after?" He taunted. "My precious little love. Your people might worship you, and your husband and children more so, but you'll never be free. You'll never be free of me."

Aglaia went deathly pale. "You're… You're wrong. It's a lie. All of it."

He laughed. His handsome face was as ghastly and repulsive to her as a rotting corpse.

"You could have had me," he whispered. He knelt in front of her. "You could have had me, you could have always had me. We could have been happy together, Aglaia. You would have been safe with me, there would be no troubles, no worries for the children…"

"No," Aglaia breathed in a hiss. She pulled back. "You lied to me. You tried to kill me."

"I loved you," he stated, standing. "And that's why I wanted to be with you… Parliament didn't think it was appropriate. They were disgusted when they heard. Your father was appalled and horrified. Your brothers wanted me dead. Your mother would have killed me herself, but I would have loved you until my very last breath and beyond."

" _No,"_ Aglaia moaned. "Go away."

"Come with me," he urged her. "Let's come away together… Both of us. How do you want to do it? A balcony? A necklace of rope, perhaps? Side by side, we can be together for eternity, my love." He whispered.

"No." Aglaia moaned. "Leave me _alone_ \- go away- far away and never come back!"

"I can't," he replied simply. "I'm a part of you, just as you are a part of me. I'm the part that you keep hidden for so long…"

" _NO!"_ Aglaia burst out, near tears. "You lied to me, you wanted me dead!"

"Only because I wanted to be with you," he whispered. "My love, my only love… And now you've betrayed me, just as I've feared." His eyes darkened. "With another… A _king."_ He spat out that word.

"I am not yours," Aglaia hissed, eyes lighting with rage. "I will _never_ be yours to take with you and drag you down as you please."

"But you've still become someone's." He pointed out. "Foolish girl. Did you really think you could ever be free? The chains that held you down, your royal birth. Your fight for freedom, not sex or drugs but _independence?"_ He laughed mockingly. "You should have been addicted to ecstasy. It would have been far more bearable. And far more successful."

Aglaia pressed her hands against her ears. "No." She gritted out.

"The civil war could have meant our freedom, Aglaia."

"The civil war killed _millions_ of our people," she spat. "Millions died, repeatedly, always by the hands of selfish men- like you!"

"But you loved me," he said quietly. Her eyes narrowed.

"I thought I did. That was a mistake. A fool's mistake."

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Careful, Aglaia. You don't want to wake the beast, do you?"

"You're not a beast." She hissed. "You… Are a monster. Even animals behave better than you. Animals have never lied. Animals don't advocate genocide and mass slaughter- not just my whole family!"

"You keep telling yourself that you'll be free. But you're wrong. You're lying. Why? Because I'm a part of you. And you'll never stop seeing me, you'll never be free."

Aglaia breathed deeply, trying to control herself. Then, without warning, she grabbed a container of makeup and hurled it at his direction.

It smashed against the door.

She was alone.

There was a broken container sitting against the floor.

Aglaia shivered. She felt sick and pale.

He was right. She would never be free.

She washed her mind clean of his auburn hair, of his mocking, handsome smile and dark grey-blue eyes. She wanted Robert. His warm face, his loving smile, his dark blue eyes…

The door opened. And in came Robert. His foot gently nudged the container and he looked up at her. "Are you alright?" He asked alarmed.

"I'm fine." She mumbled, but they both knew she wasn't.

In a single stride, he was with her, his arms around her, crushing her to his chest. "It's alright." He breathed. "I'm here. Nothing will _ever_ hurt you or our children. Ever."

 _But what about you?_ She thought. _What about you?_

He breathed out, inhaling the scent in her hair. "I love you," he whispered. "More than the world."

"I love you," she whispered against the lapels of his jacket.

"Please." She said softly. "Don't leave me." She didn't ever want to see _him_ again. "Don't ever leave me."

She stepped back. She needed to wash her mind away from this. She needed Robert.

Slowly she began taking off her dressing gown, letting it fall open and curl back like sea foam, before landing on the ground at a pile. He reached for her and crushed her lips against his.

If there was one person she wanted to see them at this, it was _him_. Maybe it could make him go away, she thought as Robert carried her to the bedroom.

* * *

"Well, on a side note," Helena said, trying to keep everyone's spirits up. "I have something." She held up a DVD.

"What's that?" Liam squinted. "Is that Aglaia on the front cover?"

"It's a documentary." Helena said proudly. "So our people can learn more about their new queen and what she's fighting for."

"Huh?" Eleanor was bewildered.

"They made… A documentary?" Liam was bewildered. "About Aglaia?"

"Yes, well, people make a lot of documentaries," Helena explained. "About you. _And_ me."

"There are documentaries about us?" Eleanor asked slowly.

"Well, I've never watched them," Helena said, crinkling her nose.

"But this one," she stated. "Is a good one. Let's watch."

"What did you see?" Robert asked her.

They were lying in bed together, naked except for the covers. Aglaia's head was resting on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat.

" _Him."_ She whispered. Robert's hand tightened around her.

"He's dead." He said quietly. "He'll never come back."

She sighed. "I was a fool."

Robert was silent, for a while. "We all make mistakes. Some worse than most."

"But he was a member of the Military Junta… I didn't know that." She whispered. But then again, she didn't know everything about Robert when they first met.

"And he tried to kill you," Robert's voice was silent, deadly. If _that_ had happened…

"I'll kill anyone who tries to touch you," he promised. "There won't be any more like him. And the assassins would never harm our children." His grip on her tightened. He would butcher them all.

The host or narrator moved forwards on the screen.

"Queen, wife, mother, sister, daughter, icon to millions, if not billions worldwide. She is adored, worshipped and idolised by many. Already, fashion labels are following her tastes and people are always tipping over to catch a glimpse of the famous queen." Footage of screaming fans… So forth and so forth.

"But who is Aglaia of Greece and Denmark? Well, we all know the story: we know that she's a Greek princess, daughter to the king of Greece." The blonde-haired woman moved forwards. "We know that she was hugely popular, not just in her native Greece, but in many countries worldwide, prior to her marriage to Britain's King Robert. That prior to her wedding, it was speculated that this might have been an arranged marriage-"

"What?" Eleanor blurted in disbelief. "Before the footage undisputedly showed two young people in love. We know that she has given three children- the first ever royal triplets, to Britain's line of succession, including a future king. But what else do we know about her? "

"It's difficult to know much about Aglaia," a man whose name and profession was shown as an editor to _The Sun_ , appeared. "I mean, for example, we don't know how and when she and Robert first met, we don't know when and how they fell in love, we don't know anything, apart from the fact that suddenly, without warning, without even suspicion, they just showed up on Greek and British television, with a ring on her finger, announcing their engagement."

"I still don't know how they did that," Eleanor muttered. But Liam knew that Robert was the best of the three of them at being discreet.

"In this documentary, I'm going to find out what I can about our new queen." A shot of the acropolis at Athens, and then of the host herself on a speedboat in the Mediterranean. "I'm going to retrace her footsteps. From the moment of her birth during a dark, dark period in Greece's modern history." Footage of shootings and people screaming and dying. "Of her happy and idyllic childhood, not in a royal palace but in an estate just outside of Athens. Of her childhood abuse-"

"This reads like a gothic horror story," a man who appeared on the screen, exclaimed to the presenter, holding out files. "This goes beyond abuse… What they did to that child, was torture."

"And the rise in popularity throughout several different continents." Footage of world leaders praising Aglaia, speeches heard, presidents, royals, prime ministers, people chanting out her name, screaming and running towards her. Aglaia all the way, giving aid, and holding dying children in a famine, undergoing extreme medical training and assistance to help them. Consoling a hysterical woman screaming for her child. Walking in an un-cleared minefield to retrieve a baby.

"From her romantic relationships-" a still of a handsome man which Liam swore he must have seen when they thought her brothers were dead. "To her personal tragedies and sufferings." A photograph of another man with auburn hair and grey-blue eyes.

"To her arrival in Britain and her rise as its new queen." A shot of Aglaia and Robert ascending the balcony. The presenter walking through Westminster Abbey. "This is beyond anything anyone must have imagined," she murmured, looking up. "Not even a princess."

"Even her triumphs as a symbol of Greece's freedom and a mascot for the armed forces fighting to free their country."

Silence on the audience's part. "What?" Len asked, baffled.

Even Helena didn't expect this.

"The scenes of sobbing farewell." A woman sobbing- well, howling, actually. Countless people dabbing their eyes. A young woman sniffing. Kids looking downcast. Aglaia embracing them all.

"You would think this is the promise of execution." The presenter grinned. "But in actual fact, this is just one of many emotional farewells given to Aglaia of Greece and Denmark before she set off to become England's queen."

Onscreen, Aglaia hugged an elderly couple, and old woman and an old man who honked into his handkerchief loudly. Liam raised his brow.

"Who is this woman to have inspired so much love and adoration from masses worldwide?" The presenter asked rhetorically.

"Aglaia's story starts off here." The presenter announced. "In Athens. But not with her birth. But the turbulent politics that resulted in a catastrophe that would engulf the entire nation and affect the future queen, before she even knew who she was."

"Oookay?" Liam said hesitantly. He knew there had been a civil war in Greece. He just didn't know the specifics.

The presenter was seated on a table surrounded by books, with one in front. "You would be forgiven into thinking that Aglaia must have been born under the luckiest of stars. But the truth is far from that."

The truth is, Aglaia's father, King Konstantinos, might have never taken the throne, if things didn't go so horribly, tragically wrong." She said in almost a whisper.

"Queen Aglaia's grandfather, was Prince Philippos, the second son of King Alexandros and the youngest brother of King Pavlos, the then-reigning king of Greece." A photograph of a handsome man with black hair and a charming, sweet smile.

"Pavlos was groomed to be the next king, but he was schooled in Britain, and spent much of his time overseas." The presenter reasoned. "As a result, the new king during the time of his ascension, knew next to nothing about the turbulent world of Greek politics."

"Pavlos learnt British history, like the Tudors, the Plantagenets and the Hanoverians. He learnt next to nothing about Greek history and the political situation in the country and that turned out to be a mistake." A historian reasoned. He spoke Greek so his words were in subtitles. "It was catastrophic. He knew about the political state in Britain, but not in his native Greece."

Len's brow furrowed as she wondered what this might have meant.

"As a result, Prince Philippos was not brought up to expect the crown. But he benefited nonetheless: his schooling might have prepared him better than his brother. In addition to academic subjects like mathematics and history, he learnt statecraft, political science, economics, sociology, ecology, geopgraphy, languages and so much more. He was also an expert athlete and had excelled at his military training so much he rose quickly through the ranks, not because he was the prince, but because he was excellent at his job." A black and white footage of the prince inspecting his troops and drilling was shown.

"Now this is where it gets complicated," the presenter stated. "Philippos had a number of children, the eldest of which was Konstantinos, the future king and Aglaia's father. Out of all of them, the tragedy was, that only one would survive." She looked mournful.

"Because of the civil war?" Liam wondered aloud.

"Throughout history, even in its renowned ancient days, Greece had always been a prize to various powers. Ancient Persia, Rome, Turkey and the axis powers in World War Two sought after the territory. Slavs, Turks, Germans, and so much more tried their hand. And this caused various strains. Greece managed to lose and regain its independence several times, only to fall into periods of civil war and strife which would result in another power taking advantage of its situation and invading. It was heartbreakingly bad."

Several shots followed. Liam looked at his sister. "Did Aglaia… Ever mention her family history in great detail to you?"

Len shook her head. "No, though that was probably because she knew I'm not a paintings and long skirts type of girl."

Liam's sense of intrigue wandered. He never did fully understood her, because she was so different. It was some time before they had learnt it all:

Aglaia's grandfather became commander in chief of the armed forces, reforming the whole military before taking them overseas to fight in a war. In the meantime, the reserve army was on standby ahead of elections. In the event of a left-wing victory, the reserve army's commanders initiated a coup which ended with the government in jail, the king and his wife were woken up in the middle of the night by tanks coming in fast surrounding the estate. They had only twenty bodyguards. Long-story short they planned a counter-coup but failed and the king, his wife, children and grandchildren were executed. The conspirators gave the order for the extended members of the royal family, including Aglaia's father and mother, who was pregnant at that time, and living on Crete, to be assassinated. They escaped with their young sons on a dingy little ferry and headed back to the mainland.

"It was right here on the Mediterranean, where Aglaia was born. There were no doctors, no nurses, no cameras nor congratulations. Not even a photograph of the princess in her baby days. Or a midwife." How very different it was.

Aglaia spent her childhood in some monastery on top of a cliff. She only had one toy which was made by the nuns, a wooden doll in a silk dress. She still had that toy, reportedly. It was very difficult for any of her parents to see their children.

"It must have been terribly hard, for Princess Anastasia to leave her baby and her sons here, when they could have been killed or she could have and they would never have seen each other again." Got that right, Liam thought. Who knew they had to go through with this? Suddenly, he understood Queen Anastasia's attachment to her own daughter.

All in all, her upbringing was a happy one after the war. She was used as a mascot and a propaganda to remind the soldiers returning what they were fighting for. Toddler Aglaia was with her family, reunited and publicly presented during the victory march.

Things progressed and the three of them watched on. Joined by Spencer and more, including Rachel. But revelations just got… More intense to say the least.

* * *

Veruca smirked.

"So… Here are the medicines, drink up, girls." She crooned. The meds consisted of small pills served with tea." It wasn't much but it had to do. It had to do, or God help them all!

The girls took the pills and Penelope said: "But I thought you said we weren't allowed to take anymore drugs."

"Only this one," Veruca pressed. "Come on, drink up." The girls looked at each other and stifled the urge to groan. They drank the tea, washing the pills down with it.

"Excellent," Veruca breathed. Helena, Anastasia… After all, Granny was the new Black. Now it was her turn.

* * *

"Oh good," Robert announced pleasantly. "You've made it." He gestured to the seat opposite him. Robbie poured both him and Alexios a glass of wine each.

Alexios accepted with his thanks. But before he could take a sip, he put the glass down. "Have you found anything on the attackers?"

Robert's eyes darkened. "It's all so suspicious. It's like they weren't trying to kill anyone just stir up trouble- without being caught. Cyrus was first on my list of suspects, but even so, he could have been the only casualty."

"But he could have been faking it," Alexios pointed out. Robert nodded. "You're right, he could have. But the fact is, that prior to the shoot-out, Cyrus fell, undoubtedly, undisputedly dead-drunk into the pond. He only just got out when they aimed for him. Missed him by inches when he fell to the ground. Cyrus would have never put himself at risk. Fuck, he wouldn't have even risked his own Alexander McQueen suit by jumping in the pond." Cyrus had been covered, disgustingly so, when he'd been fished out.

"I've known him all my life," Robert murmured. "It can't have been him." His brow furrowed. Alexios nodded. "Or maybe he didn't want you to think it was him. It could be part of a larger scheme. Cyrus was seen with your brother Liam right before he fell in the pond."

"Liam?" Robert looked up at his brother-in-law. "What did he say?"

"We didn't know," Alexios stated. "All we saw was Liam looking rather disgusted at Cyrus, and then walking off, just as he fell in. Looked like he'd been taunting, goading Liam. But apparently your brother wasn't interested." He grunted. "I can't say I blame him. The man was pathetic."

Robert breathed deeply. "Veruca and the girls went missing just before the shootout. Though I don't know where Veruca went, I did know where the girls were with."

Alexios looked up.

"There were two very drunk princes at the party," Robert clarified. "They must have been. Prince Adriaan of the Netherlands and Prince Shabangu of Swaziland." Alexios' eyebrows flew up.

"It appears the girls must have slept with them."

"Wow." Alexios remarked. "They must have been very, dead-drunk."

"Yeah," Robert agreed. "In any case, I also learnt where their mother went during the shoot-out. The kitchens. Well, her private kitchens."

Alexios looked suspicious. "And what was she doing there?"

"Preparing tea. Two cups." Robert stated. "I believe it was Chinese herbal tea."

Alexios went very silent. "Anything like the pill and the bowls of medicine my mother gave to Aglaia?"

"Most likely," Robert stated. "They slept with those boys. And I think they're about to get pregnant. The medicine your mother gave Aglaia was meant to stimulate and increase the chances of conception, preparing to house a growing child. I doubt this medicine was any different. As conception takes two or three days, they will have time to get pregnant."

"WHAT?!" Alexios hissed. "In that case…" He paused. No, he couldn't poison the girls and cause them to miscarry. That would be unethical, more than that it would be totally _wrong._

"Could we give them contraceptives? Doubt it," Robert replied, seemingly sensing his thoughts. "It would be totally wrong for one thing, to poison someone without their consent. Secondly, I think Veruca has had a tight hold over her daughters' diet now. Maribel and Penelope have never eaten so much fresh fruit and veg before I went missing, nor have they stayed sober for so long. Nor looked so tired, I think they must be exercising. She's done this not only to make them look more attractive but to get them ready for fertilisation." He took a sip from his wine. Alexios scowled.

"Adriaan… I remember him. Not the ripest fruit on the tree and not the brightest candle on the table either. The one thing that really struck me during our visit to the Netherlands was how very unremarkable he was. Didn't matter if people thought he was good-looking. He wasn't very smart. Of course he would get drunk." And he had been drooling at Aglaia the whole time too. That was probably why most people got drunk. They needed their fantasies, she went with Robert at the end of the day and her babies.

"Prince Shabangu, I don't know that well. I only know that his father King Sobhuza is a polygamist and he's one of… Well, I can't really say how many sons and daughters that king has. Or wives." His brow furrowed. "If he's not the son of one of the king's first two wives- his ritual wives, they call them- then he would be able to inherit."

"So Veruca wants her daughter- or both daughters to marry a man who may or may not take his father's throne in a small country in Africa, far from fashion capitals like Paris, who would marry other women _if_ he becomes king and sire more children who are as likely to rule as absolute monarch as her own offspring?" Robert said in disbelief. "What was she thinking? It's reckless, it's stupid… I'd advocate it. I'd advocate for her to do it." In fact he did. He introduced the girls to a bunch of people, not knowing who, and left them there. Oops, he might have been responsible, in part, for this.

"Send her daughters off, far from Britain? Yes, that's a wise idea," Alexios remarked. "Even an absolute monarch would be hard-pressed to declare war without any good reason."

"It'd be suicide," Robert remarked. He drank his wine.

"But there's more to this," Alexios stated. "I think we should keep our options open, don't you?" Robert asked. The two brothers-in-law saluted and drank.

"If they are pregnant, however," Robert stated. "I think we both know that the scandal it would afford to us, the British royal family, and the Dutch royal family, and the Swazi… They would have to marry whether they like it or not." He grimaced. He really regretted doing this to Penelope and Maribel, as dopey as they might have been, they did no wrong. Besides, what kind of parents would push their kids to do this?

* * *

"This reads like a gothic horror story," the presenter announced when reading over some files. "And this is what happened to her?" Horror sounded in her voice.

"Yes, this is the account heard in court with what happened between Princess, now Queen Aglaia."

"It's unimaginable, the amount of abuse that the governess and the people who were supposed to be in charge, to care for Princess Aglaia did, when her parents went on their royal tour."

Now a whole group of people were watching.

* * *

Princess Mizuki of Japan smiled.

"I take it the king heard." She stated to Alexios.

"He did." Alexios conceded. "And what of the assassins? Does he find it as suspicious as I do?" She questioned.

Alexios nodded. "One of his first observations." Mizuki nodded in satisfaction.

"I wonder what the Imperial Household Agency would say about all of this." Alexios remarked. Mizuki scoffed.

"They've been a thorn in my side long enough." They were the ones who pulled her out of the temple during a 'failed assassination attempt' which itself was fishy to say the least.

"The children appear fine, but it's clear that there are troublemakers. The king's uncle, for one, and his remarried wife." She looked at him. "What is he planning to do about them?"

"I think," Alexios said slowly. "That he has a plan."

"Any chance that your sister might share it?"

"Maybe," he conceded. "I don't know much about their relationship." Apart from what he observed, it was a deep, loving and caring marriage. Early days or not, he had absolutely no doubt that they would be happy for the rest of their lives. And based on what his mother said, it was a passionate match behind closed doors. _Not_ something he _ever_ wanted to know.

"Well," Mizuki sighed. "They do seem rather happy together. He very is very much in love with her and she is happier and more radiant than she has ever been."

Alexios gave a non-committal grunt. Most Japanese royals might have seen this as an insult, the Imperial Household Agency which controlled their every move certainly would have, but Mizuki was no ordinary princess- in fact that was just a title. She slowly moved forwards towards him.

"Is her brother-in-law a threat?" She asked quietly.

Alexios's brow furrowed. "I thought he would be," he admitted. "But based on what Dimitri and I found out, Liam… Would do no such thing."

"Would not or could not?" Mizuki asked. She was certainly one of the sharpest people in existence.

She shook her head. "I saw him throughout the Christening." She explained. "Although he does not seem particularly interested in anything his nephew might have someday, he did… Look at your sister with a certain interest."

Alexios stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Mizuki stated. "Based on what kind of power-play we have here- much more exciting than what I'm used to seeing- I think you should take steps- measures to make sure your nephew ascends the British throne."

She said quietly. "Not Liam. Not Cyrus. Not his hopeless daughters. Not even Eleanor as much as Aglaia appear to be getting along with her in-laws. Only Will. Or Andrew. Or Selena. With Aglaia as regent if necessary. But as long as Robert is alive, she is safe."

"As long as he is alive," Alexios mused aloud. "The last king was killed."

He wasn't referring to the uncle. If anyone ever remembered his reign, it wasn't with fondness.

Robert was King Simon's de facto successor, just as Will would be. Alexios needed to make it happen before they were killed or disgraced at the very least.

"Then we have to keep them safe," Mizuki said quietly. "Even if the Imperial Household Agency disapproves of my… Activities, especially in foreign royal affairs, I believe I may find a way." She headed for the nursey wing.

Dimitri watched her go, before approaching his brother. "She's quite unusual, brother." He stated.

Alexios inclined his head.

"Why are we inviting the Princess of Akishino into this mess that's now part ours?" Dimitri asked.

"Because Princess Mizuki would do anything for Aglaia. You know this better than most."

"The Imperial Household Agency has a very tight hold on all the activities and doings of the imperial family. Even the child of a second son like Mizuki." Dimitri stated. "But even so I can't disagree. She's the most capable ally we have."

Alexios nodded. "Alexios," Dimitri began. "Penelope and Maribel- their mother took them to see a Chinese doctor. I've researched her. She's very skilled, very highly recommended for fertility treatments."

"I know." Alexios stated. "And Robert knows too. He knows about the medicines and the diet and exercise regimen the duchess imposed on her daughters."

Mizuki shook her head. "If you don't mind, the queen has given me permission to check on her triplets."

Alexios nodded as the Japanese princess, the most mysterious and enigmatic member to have ever been born in their imperial family, made her way to the babies' nurseries.

Aglaia watched her go.

Her children would be safe with Mizuki, she knew for certain.

She didn't hear what her brother and her friend had discussed, but she did have a good guess.

Her family and friends genuinely feared for her and the children's safety and trusted no one.

Aglaia knew how trust could be breached very simply. Her governess and retainers were trusted to care for and educate her in her parents' absence when they first became king and queen. Instead they abused her horrendously and the governess died when her car took a tumble of a cliff during the police chase.

And her boyfriend… Aglaia looked away.

She had a husband now. He wasn't perfect, but who cared? She could not love him any less for being who and what he was. He gave her three children…

Aglaia went to the nurseries. _This_ was to be her life now.

* * *

At barely two months, Will, Andrew and Selena were already bright babies. Someone said they seemed to be more intelligent, or in the very least, more aware than most babies at that age and children older than them, but Aglaia knew that intellect is one thing and emotional development which was just as important for the mental and physical health of the babies were another.

Will was the calmest, most seemingly level-headed of the trio. He observed his own surroundings, almost with a calculated precision and a patience which was enviable. He could become an excellent strategist, like Tokugawa Ieyasu the first shogun, Mizuki claimed. Ieyasu was patient and calculating. Even as a baby he seemed very intelligent in his gaze. Like he understood and had taken a step back from his family's crazy life. And he already knew what to do.

Andrew was the most decisive triplet, quick to react to anything. He had a temper which could be frightening even for an infant, and a hard gaze that seemed to intimidate anyone, and even though he wasn't stupid- as months went by, he knew where he could go and run and would act with caution in case he or anyone else tripped or bumped into someone for example- he was certainly energetic, temperamental and intimidating.

Selena by sharp contrast was a sweet, incredibly affectionate, happy baby. She hadn't stopped smiling since she first learnt how at least nine days since her birth, her father claimed. And always when one of her parents or someone she knew came into her line of sight, she would coo, and later cry out their names, her eyes full of the wide-eyed adoring love she seemed to exude to everyone. She laughed and smiled early and enjoyed playing enormously and even being dangled in front of a mirror would prompt her to beam at her own baby reflection. Len jokingly called her vain. "She's inherited those genes from this side of the family," she joked, unaware of how Mizuki grimaced covertly as did Dimitri.

The months progressed, the triplets grew. They were no longer swaddled and the bassinets were taken out of their individual nurseries and began sleeping more and more in their cots. Will started teething as did Andrew which put the latter in an enormous temper, and even Will barely tolerated it and Selena suffered. They ate soft, solid foods and started examining their baby books with a ferocious intensity. Aglaia was required to make a thorough documentation of her babies' progress and not just in the baby book.

Robert had made it clear to the media, that at such young ages, until they come of age, their environment should not be intruded upon by the media or any invading personnel. Their security, nannies, parents, godparents and relatives as with whatever playdates they would have, would be it. No press, no royal protocol, nothing. They had kept the children from the press for a few hours after the birth.

"But remember," Anastasia warned her daughter during one of her visits. "At the heart of any royal parents' success is a strong and stable marriage. If you and your spouse treat each other with respect and love and care for one another, your children will learn to do the same. Also, your children need a happy and nurturing environment to grow up in healthy and happy. I can point out numerous examples with this throughout history in various countries. So take care of your husband and marriage. Be happy and spend time together. You don't have to be with him every minute of every day, but quality is more important than quantity."

With this in mind, Aglaia who had already lost weight and was constantly advised by her mother to look after her looks throughout her pregnancy and afterwards, had treated her husband numerous times after the birth. They still, admittedly, had a deep and loving relationship, though their intimate lives weren't as wild as it was, the passion remained, and both of them adored each other.

Also taking her parents' advice, Aglaia realised she couldn't and shouldn't shelter her children forever. So snippets were sent out to the media which were ferociously devoured by the public. Photographs mostly. Maybe a video, but not yet. Much to the dismay of the traditionalists, they did not appear all dressed up and royal the way Robert, Liam, Eleanor and their parents did in their photographs released to the public. In fact the royal couple were definitely toned down in dress. They didn't look any different from any couple returning from work and playing with their kids, despite their enormous good looks. The babies were pouring over baby books and their interest rose.

The video footage of the babies first crawling was released discreetly weeks after they first began. The small snippets of the royals' family life was enthralling to the public.

People, to put it simply, adored them for the simple moralistic values they shared with the general public, their devotion to their family as well as their people. People couldn't understand or identify with Queen Helena's affairs, and the way her two younger children partied hard-core during their early adult years. The only conclusion that royal watchers and the public came up with was that the royals didn't know how to raise their kids right, and didn't seem to care about them much at all. This was a different story. "People can be fascinated with what it is like to live the high life, wear Dior, Chanel and Gucci, and gossip about scandals, but they can never understand hundreds of mistresses, concubines of pleasure squads," Anastasia warned her. Helena was nearby. She stiffened at the implication though Anastasia did not look at her.

Soon they started learning and identifying the alphabet. They were going to put the words together very soon.

* * *

Willow appeared in the palace and was directed to the nursery.

Aglaia smiled when she appeared. "Willow," she exclaimed. "Come in, please."

The babies were on a mat on the playroom floor. Will was seriously browsing over two baby books as was Selena. One was for the English alphabet and another one was a short, simple story. They began connecting the letters from the first book to the ones on the second and their mother helped identify the meaning of that word.

"They're… Getting quite advanced." Willow said in surprise. Aglaia smiled.

"Children have always learned through play," she said simply. "Make things interesting for them, make them want to learn or do something and they will do it."

Andrew crawled his way to his mother. She scooped him up and settled back down with the rest of her babies. Anastasia nodded, smiling warmly at Willow. "Care to join us, everyone?" Aglaia asked.

The two warring mothers-in-law/grandmothers smiled- looking rather tight on Helena's part- and sat down with Willow over the babies. "Now… A." Aglaia said. She repeated this slowly. It had become a learning game for them.

"A," their mother said enticingly. She moved the other book towards them. "A..?" She trailed off expectantly.

Will and Selena placed a chubby finger on the letter A, along with a pouting Andrew.

The babies immediately identified the letter in the new book in various places.

"Very good." Aglaia cheered. "B…" Her hand moved towards another book.

The babies identified the letter, and they also began identifying the various animals their mother showed them on a fourth book.

"I've started speaking other languages with them too," Aglaia admitted to them. "Gaelic- both Irish and Scottish, and Welsh as well as Greek. But I don't want them to mix them up. They have to learn how to speak them all properly."

The babies started getting bored. Selena started cooing and reached around with grabby hands. Andrew was crawling away, grunting in a slightly irritated manner, eying his toys, before deciding that they weren't of any interest.

"I wanted to ask you all something," Aglaia said cheerfully.

"Hmm?" Len appeared in the nursery in jeans and a tank top. _"Hellooo, my_ _wittel_ _dahlings_ ," she cooed. The babies immediately cooed and crawled towards her.

"It's about the triplets' birthday," Aglaia explained. "I want to take them to an amusement park."

Helena and Anastasia both stared at her.

"What?" Helena blurted out.

" _Αγάπη μου, είσαι σίγουρος;"_ Anastasia asked. _Darling, are you sure?_

"Why not?" Aglaia boldly asked. She looked at Willow. "What do you think?" She encouraged. "I mean… we'll be there in Thorpe Park, and then a small party afterwards."

Willow nodded. "I think it's a great idea."

"What about security?" Helena asked.

"Well, we'll take James Hill and the nannies who won't be dressed in their uniforms. Jasper can come along with Sarah Alice. No one will know they're security." She offered. "Or rather… If you won't mind, when the party starts- and it's going to be rather private-"

Anastasia straightened. "Darling, I understand more than most that you want to give these babies a normal upbringing, and that is good. It's incredibly healthy to have them as such. The fact that you and your husband are not leaving your children to the rigours of royal protocol and constant public attention means that your offspring will never have to grow up like another Louis XVI and Charles I whose parents or caregivers invested little time and interest in them and confined them to just that. I think we all know that highly deluded sense of entitlements and being secluded from the real world lead both of them to the scaffold with their heads cut off." Helena's eye twitched. Clearly this was something aimed at her. "But it does not mean that they are not in danger. Goodness knows, they're already in a crazy mess. People are entirely fascinated with the world's first pair of royal triplets born into this royal house and they are hoping to see… Something spectacular. I don't know about you, but your babies seem remarkably advanced for their age. What if it encourages not only public interest but also whoever wants to keep them off the throne?"

Willow looked alarmed. Len looked from her mother, to Anastasia to Aglaia and back.

Aglaia let out a sigh. "Mother," she began. But shook her head. "You could… Wait a bit," Willow suggested.

"Wait?" Aglaia looked at her. "Wait until they're old enough, takes some time, but when the time comes, they'll be able to go to Thorpe Park, Disneyland, the Harry Potter theme park in Florida, anything. Just not for their first birthdays. Besides, it's not as if they could go to all the rides _and_ be able to remember it," Willow put in.

"She's right." Len sat down. She picked up Selena and put her on her lap with a book. "A small tea party would do." She beamed. "I could arrange it."

The door knocked. "Her Imperial Highness, the Princess Mizuki of Akishino," someone announced. And Mizuki made her way in.

"Your Imperial Highness, I did not expect you here." Helena remarked.

"I asked her to come, she's checking up on the triplets," Aglaia informed her, standing and picking the babies up one by one.

"How have they been?" Mizuki put down her black bag.

"They've been eating well and sleeping through the night, even Andrew," Aglaia stated. "They've begun eating solid food- soft ones like oatmeal and purée."

"Stools?" Mizuki picked up William and put him on the changing table. "How often do you change them a day?"

"Same as always, they do seem satisfied and interested in eating, milk and solids, so that's no problem. At least six wet diapers and several stools per day." Aglaia announced.

"They appear rather healthy," Mizuki smiled. She picked up a stethoscope and began monitoring the babies' heartbeat. She checked their temperatures. "Weight check?" She asked. Aglaia nodded.

"Wait- you're a doctor?" Len blurted.

Mizuki raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Some traditional Chinese practices, though I'm Japanese, and Western. So their eating habits are rather well. Their sleep patterns, based on what you've told me, they've been developing their own… Immunisations?" She asked.

"The usual." Aglaia conceded. Mizuki nodded. "Good."

"You're a princess," Len stated. "How could you possibly be a doctor?"

Mizuki laughed softly. "I was a _Miko_ \- a priestess at a Shinto temple- for a few years. I loved the place, but I was pulled out due to 'security concerns.'" She scoffed. "Afterwards I trained to become a doctor. I developed an interest in traditional Chinese medicines and western. So I studied abroad, same old story, came back and am now allowed to practice, though the Imperial Household Agency, who controls my every move, prevent me from becoming your regular GP."

"We met here," Aglaia said softly. "In Britain. I was studying law and social sciences in Oxford and she was in medical school."

Len stared. "I've never been to university."

Aglaia looked at her and then at Helena. "Princesses don't normally graduate-" Helena began, but trailed off.

"In any case, your triplets are healthy and they appear to be developing rather well," Mizuki said pleasantly. She smiled at the mother, after checking all three babies. "On a side-note," she pressed a piece of paper into Aglaia's hand. "I'll be in London for two weeks. This is where I'll be staying. Please destroy this."

Aglaia nodded. "Understood." She smiled at Mizuki. "Thank you."

Aglaia turned towards them. "You've never been to university, really?"

Len nodded. "Nope." She didn't need to say that she'd only ever been a party girl for most of her adult life.

"Well, I've been home-schooled, so I suppose you're in good company," Aglaia gave her a reassuring smile as she picked up the triplets and one by one, put them into the playpen.

"Yeah, but I didn't… I'm not qualified for anything," Len said while their mothers went to one of the nurseries. Aglaia looked at her, while giving her babies teething rings with gel and chew toys to soothe their aching gums.

"Well, it's not too late to learn," Aglaia remarked, straightening. "What would you like to do?"

Len paused. "I… I haven't really thought about it," she admitted.

"Well, Princess Mizuki whom you've met, is a doctor, before that she was a priestess." Aglaia began. "I was interested in law, and wanted to become a Human Rights lawyer, before I joined medical school and then the United Nations for UNICEF and UNHCR for children and refugees abroad. Princess Arinya of Thailand owns a chain of boutiques where she sells luxury items like clothes inspired by traditional clothing and her own grandmother, and scented candles among other products. Some like the Princess of Dubai have competed in the Olympics- she was an equestrian. She also knows how to drive a truck." Len and Aglaia blinked in surprise.

"You could of course, go for the army, but somehow I don't think that would suit you," Aglaia said, amused. "No," Len agreed.

"And religious life?" She questioned. "Not into that either?" Len made a hesitant face. "Well-" Aglaia laughed. "Medical school?" Len grimaced. "Blood and me… Don't get along so well. Besides, if I made a mistake…" She quailed at the thought.

"I was also in the School of Language," Aglaia stated. "And social sciences. My father took an interest in ecology. And like the emperor of Japan, ichthyology."

"Ick- what?"

"Ichthyology. Basically, fish science." She explained. "There's also agriculture. The king of Thailand studied that and irrigation. They wanted to find a good source of protein accessible to all Thais, and so they drained one of the pools in the royal gardens, and used it to breed fish. They distributed them to people from all villages and towns to breed and so they were able to have fish. When the monsoon failed to come, he used an airplane to saturate the clouds with chemicals and rain would start falling. They called him the Rainmaker King. This was the previous king of Thailand," she sighed. "You could go for that, or the School of Design. You could… Become a graphics designer, or start your own fashion label."

Len's eyes were wide as she realised the scope of what she could do. She'd lived a royal existence all her life, thinking it was all balls, parties and ceremonies, with the occasional horse race and numerous designer dresses, gowns, jewels and accessories. And apart from that, as an act of rebellion, it was all racy night clubs, drugs, sex and alcohol, even dirty dancing.

She never attempted to live a life beyond that because there had never been a _point_. She would never be able to get a regular job, be a regular girl. She wouldn't be allowed to go amidst 'peasant stock' as Duchie used to say. Apart from the security risks, there were numerous issues. And yet, here was not only one but two princesses who not only excelled in their royal duties- at least in Aglaia's case- but also had jobs, lives outside the palace and beyond the monotonous, tedious world of royal etiquette. And more princesses if what Aglaia had said was true.

They'd succeeded. Not only that they had actually advanced and benefited their own countries.

Eleanor swallowed.

"I have to warn you though," Aglaia said gently. "That it's going to be hard. People will look at you and think you're just a princess and a spoiled brat and that's all you'll ever be. They'll either try to give you preferential treatment which means that you will never be able to learn anything or get anywhere, or they will put you down, exclude you, always underestimating you. Not to mention, working means balancing your royal duties and your home life all together with your job. But… It's worth it." She said quietly. "It's worth it, to be proud that you _can_ do something, that you can live without being pampered, spoiled and dependant on people in order to survive. At the end of the day, you can feel that you are a good, hard worker, that you've earned your own money and reaped your own rewards, justly and fairly. That you don't need anyone looking after you and that you deserve all the good that's come into your life." She regarded Eleanor. "It's worth it."

And Eleanor was determined.

"I… I think I want to start a fashion line," she said through a dry throat. "I mean… I see Mum, I see you, and I have me. I know fashion, even though I used to dress quite… Well, you know, just to rebel. I can take influences and use it into something new. That or a cosmetics."

Aglaia smiled. "Then go for it," she urged. "And don't let anyone's words get you down."

Len took a deep breath. "There's ahem, just one problem though," she admitted sheepishly.

"Oh? And what's that?" Aglaia asked.

Len looked even more sheepish. "I can't sew."

* * *

"So you tie the knot," Nanny Pam began.

Eleanor squinted. "How on earth do you tie a knot, it's so… Tiny." She scowled, trying to see the thread properly.

She was learning how to sew.

The nannies had made quillows- or quilts that could be folded into pillows. Add to the individual cushions, baby bonnets and shoes, cardigans, jumpers, trousers, skirts and all the clothes that babies wear, half of which was given to them as very expensive gifts, the rest lovingly made by Aglaia, Queen Anastasia or the nannies.

Len gritted her teeth. "This is hopeless."

"No, it isn't." Nanny Pam encouraged. "Just keep practicing."

Len only pricked her finger and nearly dropped the embroidery hoop.

Nanny Pam also taught her knitting.

"I don't get how this… _Knit one_ and _pearl two_ thing works," Eleanor admitted.

How to operate a sewing machine.

In the meantime to encourage her, Aglaia suggested that she drew up some of her own designs. "Are you sure you want to do this?" She asked Len.

Eleanor nodded. "Positive," she said, firmly.

She drew her sketches. And to her own surprise, some of the elements in what she drew she got from Aglaia and her own mother.

"What do you think?" She asked, Aglaia eagerly.

Aglaia bent down to see the sketch. Admittedly, Len also needed brushing up on her artistry skills, but after a few tries, she nailed it.

The sheath dress was emerald green. It was made of silk layered with tulle in slightly differing shades of green like jade and mint. There was an emerald belt in the middle, ornate and stylized. The shoulders were bared but there were cap sleeves with small pleated layers. The bodice had subtle hints of swirling patterns, very subtle, made of tulle lace.

Then there was another one: this one was an evening gown in turquoise silk gauze with gold leaf embroidery. There was a beaded bolero jacket adorning it on top.

"I think it's great," Aglaia complimented her genuinely. The two had decided not to tell Helena any of this just yet. Or anyone else. They just wanted to see how it went first.

"Now," Aglaia went on. "Shall we get started?"

"Huh? What do you mean?" Aglaia smiled and shrugged. "Well," she began. "Shall we make it? Who do you want to wear it?"

* * *

In the events that followed, Aglaia arranged for a few prominent designers to be seated where they could easily see the royal family, for British fashion week. The royal family would be scrutinised very carefully for what they were wearing. Aglaia had chosen one of Eleanor's designs and both agreed not to tell a single soul. In fact, for coming events, Aglaia would wear one of Len's designs, the ones that met her approval, after Len asked her to treat her as any designer. Aglaia agreed.

British fashion week rocked. Afterwards came several ceremonies, things that Aglaia would wear during her royal duties and the work she undertook herself. Meeting heads-of-state, attending dinners, galas, opening ceremonies et cetera. During all this time, she had been remarkably silent on who designed her outfits, prompting the press and her fashion followers to furiously question various designers on whether or not they had made the queen's clothes and Princess Eleanor's. Even Helena was suspicious and impressed, and asked who made them for her.

"Why?" Aglaia asked.

"Well whoever did it, clearly knows their business," the queen mother replied.

Once she'd turned away, Aglaia discreetly winked at Len.

She asked Len if she wanted to take this overseas. "There are a number of people," she told her. She named one, the sultan of Burma's wife. "She loves coordinating bags and shoes or adorning her headscarf with a striking brooch. She's a patron of _Songket_ fabric weavers and her support and financial backing has been invaluable to the people working in that industry."

The princess of Thailand had recently had her own fashion show in Paris. "Draping, pleating fabrics, and traditional ones but with a very modern and stylish flare," Aglaia showed her the designs. There were dresses with gathered hems or trousers that were wide and almost voluminous at the hips and became narrower at the legs, very exotic sarongs, fabrics in saffron and turmeric, carmine as well as ivory, beige and dove-grey. The Thai princess like gold and silver filigree embroidery and sometimes stones like topaz in hems, sleeves, panels and belts. There were wedges, platforms, pumps, and sandals, jewelled and adorned with gilt and gorgeous handbags with jewel-encrusted peacocks. "She's doing rather well," Aglaia admitted.

Len was… Not as enthusiastic. "I'm going up against _that?"_ She said, aghast. "Well, remember, she's been doing this for some time now. You're just getting started. All this is a learning process. Some people can be pleased, others less impressed. Some want more while others want less." She looked at her.

Len gazed at the photos of the Thai princess all dressed up for fashion week and various events. She remembered her own crazy days. Like she spent as much money trying to make herself appear as cheap as possible in order to give the finger to royal protocol and people like Lucius or her mother. Her makeup smudged and partly washed off, while her mother remained impeccable. This princess looked and dressed like a supermodel.

This was why they needed to keep her name out of it until it was suitable and believable enough. Aglaia had already advised Len to take care of her appearance to advertise. She also wore clothing she herself designed.

* * *

"When I am in charge of my own label," Len decided, nearly pricking herself on the sewing machine. "I _am_ going to get people to do this for me."

"But until then, you start at the dirt before you reach the stars," Aglaia reminded her.

"Where were you all my life?" Len smiled, shaking her head.

"Your brother said the same thing," Aglaia muttered. She did _not_ tell Len what they did after he said that. It was bad enough her mother had to interfere in this. This should strictly be placed behind closed doors.

"What about your cousins, Penelope and Maribel," Aglaia mused aloud. "You know… They could really benefit from doing something like this."

Len nearly snorted in laughter. "You're joking right?" She asked Aglaia, in disbelief. "Why not?" Aglaia stated.

Eleanor shook her head. "Because they'll… Be utterly clueless and helpless in every possible way." Aglaia sighed. "Are they really that...?" She hesitated. She did not know a polite term to describe the sisters' intellectual capability.

Eleanor snorted and shook her head once more. "But they're… Surely they've been… Their parents…" Aglaia trailed off hesitantly.

Len gave Aglaia a look. "For all I can say that my life was really f***ed up, Penelope and Maribel's parents did a lot worse," she remarked, inspecting the fabric. "At least I know that my parents did care, deep down. I know Veruca must have but Cyrus…" She grimaced and picked up an embroidery hoop.

Aglaia sighed. "Wow. So what will happen to them for the rest of their lives? If they spend all the money that they've somehow inherited, what will happen to them then?"

Eleanor shrugged. "I dunno. I think Cyrus made a point of making sure they were well-provided, but if they keep spending them on drugs, I can't promise that they'll be happy."

"Right." Her sister-in-law stated. "Well…" She sighed. She looked down and saw a photograph. It was a silver-framed photo of King Simon, Queen Helena and their children when they were clearly young, innocent and in much happier days. King Simon's face was blissful, inwardly at least, it must have been. He seemed radiant and happy. A curly, blond-haired boy with cherubic features and blue eyes cheekily had his left arm thrown over his father's shoulder and was peeking through there. Queen Helena was dressed simply in comparison to what she usually wore, her only jewellery a strand of simple pearls and flower earrings, hair swept in an up-do and a girl with her same hair had her arms lovingly thrown from behind her mother, who held her close. An adolescent boy with dark hair smiled down, bent from behind. Happier days, when things were less complicated it seemed.

"You know I met him," Aglaia said quietly.

"Who?" Len asked, looking up from her sewing.

"Your father," she stated. Len's eyes widened. "You did."

Aglaia shook her head smiling. "Oh, how I could totally laugh. I didn't see a thing coming. I was tiny, really small. Your father came for a state visit. I didn't see your mother, but I heard she came as well. He bent down, and I was surprised, because since when did a king like him bend down to actually pay attention to royal children he had never met? The public's children, for sure, but princesses. He said, 'She's growing into a beauty, this one. Better look out,' he warned my father. 'What do you think's going to happen when some handsome prince or great king from far away steals her from you? Or even any guy?' My father just laughed. He said: 'Not for a long, long time, I hope.' 'Well I think she'll be a very great woman and someday a very great man will be worthy enough to win her heart.'" Aglaia laughed and shook her head. "If only he knew." She stated. She sighed. "It's the biggest shame," she said sadly. "I think he would have been so happy to have you with us," Len said sadly. "He would have loved nothing more than to hold the triplets in his arms. To be there at your wedding day."

"And yours," Aglaia said softly. "Has Jasper popped the question yet?" Len blushed furiously. "What?" "Do you want him to?" She asked cheekily.

Just then someone burst in. Eleanor quickly stuffed her work under the coffee table and Aglaia stood in front of her poised and calm. "Yes?" She asked.

"Your majesty." The man swallowed. "Forgive the intrusion, but…"

"But what?" Aglaia said, her suspicions mounting.

"Their Royal Highnesses the Princesses Penelope and Maribel… His Majesty said it had something to do with them." He admitted. "The king also said it was an emergency."

Aglaia and Eleanor exchanged looks and dashed off.

* * *

Robert was in his private office. Cyrus was drinking- no surprise- swilling down all the Scotch and brandy he could get his hands on, sometimes straight from the decanter. Veruca was smirking, or at least trying and failing not to, but the look in her eyes. Helena stood frozen as if stunned. Liam just… Looked astonished like he couldn't believe anything like this had happened… Whatever it was.

"Yes," Aglaia announced, entering, closely followed by Eleanor.

"Darling," Robert turned towards her with a ghost of a smile. "It seems we have a little problem right here."

Cyrus scoffed. "I daresay. The two idiots of my loins are stupider than I thought."

"Your royal highness, I would _advise_ you to keep your feelings hidden if that is how you truly feel," Aglaia said icily. She turned towards Penelope, Maribel and their mother. "What is it that could possibly be considered such a terrible emergency?"

"My daughters are both pregnant." Veruca smiled, looking like the cat that got the cream.

"I'm sorry?" Aglaia asked alarmed.

"They're pregnant," Veruca repeated.

"Both of them?" Aglaia demanded.

"Both of them."

"How?" Eleanor was frankly quite astounded. _"WHO?!"_

"That's what we'd all like to know," Robert remarked.

"One was Prince Adriaan of the Netherlands." Veruca stated. "WHAT?!" There was a chorus of that from Helena, Liam, Aglaia and Eleanor. "The other one on the bed was Prince Shabangu of Swaziland."

Robert sighed and turned his eyes heavenwards. "And do you have any idea of the implications for royalty of getting _before_ marrying?"

"Well, in Swaziland, that can easily be fixed," Veruca claimed. "After all, the wives selected by the king are called brides until they become pregnant which is when marriage takes place."

"So you're okay with this?" Aglaia demanded. "Prince Shabangu told you that?" Boy, was she going to have a _word_ with him. "Well, yes, after I pestered him."

"Prince Shabangu isn't the king. There's not even a guarantee he's going to become a king. The king is chosen by… Well, it's complex based on what I've read," Aglaia spluttered. "A reigning monarch is chosen _after_ the death of the king from amongst his many children and he and his mother go to govern the country as absolute rulers." Cyrus sniggered drunkenly. "And even if this is permitted from a royal outside of the king, in European royal circles, including this one, it is _not_." She glared at the four of them. "You are pregnant out of wedlock thanks to other royalty and your own carelessness. Do you have any idea of the scandal it would ensue? Leaving aside Swaziland, there's the Netherlands. Do you think they permit this sort of thing any more than any other royal house in Europe? Back in the day, royal love-children were accepted as a fact of life, but right now things have changed. Especially through other royals. Monaco might have different laws, but in any other part of the world, a princess getting pregnant out of wedlock…" She shook her head aghast. "This could cause a severe international crisis." She stated to her husband. "Prince Adriaan could be kicked out of his own family and the Dutch line of succession, stripped of all styles and titles."

"Style?" Penelope echoed dopily. "He's not going to have… Style?" Maribel looked petrified at the thought. "Are we going to lose our… Style?"

"Perhaps," Aglaia snapped at them with such ferocity that even Cyrus and Veruca were stunned to silence.

"It would be no less than what you deserve!" She hissed. The rest of them took a step back. This was Aglaia as they had never seen her before. "You fools! You may have damaged international relations with _at least_ two countries, and sullied the reputation of this one. You've dishonoured and disgraced the House of Henstridge and worse of all, you've disgraced and embarrassed Britain, if you haven't publicly humiliated your country!" She snapped. "We are trying to mend relations with other countries, particularly the royal houses, and you go about drunk, getting pregnant with princes whom you aren't even engaged? They will blame us!" She spat. "They will blame the Henstridges! They will expect a fine, they will expect punishment. Which means that Prince Adriaan may very well lose his own right to the throne, as do you!"

Veruca froze. "What?" So did Penelope and Maribel.

"She's right," Robert admitted. He stood up where he had been leaning against his desk. "They will certainly expect punishment to be dealt with quickly and as decisively as possible. Otherwise, international relations and more will be damaged further by the ensuing scandal. We have to resolve this _now_ before the scandal breaks free." Aglaia shook her head. "We also have to talk about your less-than perfect planning of all this," Robert said icily.

"What?" Veruca asked. "I don't know what you're talking about," she immediately denied.

"Of course you don't," Robert said sarcastically. "Never mind the fact that you supplied your daughters with Chinese traditional medicine in order to get them ready for pregnancy."

"WHAT?!" That was Helena, Eleanor, Aglaia and Liam- and Cyrus.

"Everything will come crashing down," Robert warned them. "Prepare for a whole lot of drama."


	14. Chapter 14

**To** **Superdani4Ever** **: No, but it and her upbringing has helped her to transform into the woman she became. Those documentaries aren't always given the royal seal of approval, and I'm sure if the royals ever saw them then they would probably scoff, if they didn't react indignantly like Cyrus did.**

 **I think Robert managed to hide his relationship with Kathryn from the media, so he's rather good. And if Aglaia managed to study in the country without any knowledge leaked out through the media, then she's good too.**

 **Britain did not go to Greece's aid, any more than America did. Normally nations don't go to wars, even to aid other nations, unless it threatened their very interests and own security. Well, yes, it must have come across the Henstridges more than once, they are somewhat in awe of her- they never imagined that anyone could do this differently from what they did.**

 **Veruca sees Helena and Anastasia, and goes green with envy. She can't have what Aglaia has so she wants what** _ **they**_ **have!**

 **Oh, Robert knows. He's naturally very protective, but he's also quite possessive. She's shown him she's not a helpless person who can't survive on her own. That's one of the reasons he wanted to possess her in the first place. She aroused his interest and curiosity by acting self-reliant and yet able to be graceful and poised like a queen. And yet seemingly normal and calming. As for the nun bit…**

 **Yeah, no one can stand against them- ever! And the babies are truly sweet!**

 **I guess they're tired, nannies or not, being new parents and having royal duties… Besides, babies or not, they like to keep their personal lives private especially since they've had enough of the family intrusions! Helena knows, it's an unfailing reminder of her short-comings as a wife and mother. And finally Len goes for gold! But wait for it- it's not going to be easy!**

 **Poor Simon. If only he knew. He would have really loved her, and she would have felt the same way.**

* * *

 **I don't own _Royals_. Neither do you, but hey, _E!_ does! **

* * *

**To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.**

"I knew she was trying to get her daughters to marry someone," Aglaia hissed. "But I never imagined…"

"I know," Robert said grimly. They had just put the babies to bed and now they were discussing this in the playroom far from Robert's office and potential eavesdroppers.

"Pregnant… Out of wedlock! For a royal, especially now even more than the Middle Ages, that's a death sentence," she hissed. "Can you imagine the disgrace, the humiliation this whole family will have to face?"

"I know," Robert said placating her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. But we need to think up solutions now, they're still waiting outside."

Aglaia shook her head. If an English or Scottish princess had gotten pregnant out of wedlock in the old days, or eloped with someone… Wait, that's it.

"A fine," she stated. "We need to fine them a great deal of money. Give the money perhaps, to the various families, along with numerous gifts and tokens of our most sincere apologies."

Robert nodded. "And…" He began seemingly waiting.

Aglaia bit her lip.

"What else… Do you want? The other royal houses need compensation."

Robert paused. "Let's bring my mother and siblings in here, shall we?"

Once Helena, Liam and Eleanor were inside, the latter began: "Well, what are we going to do?"

Robert shook his head. "Damn it."

"We might… Be able to get Prince Adriaan and Prince Shabangu to marry them." Aglaia shrugged. "But as it so happens, they were all dead-drunk, I don't know who ended up with who."

"Yeah,' Len muttered. Liam nodded sagely. "So until those babies pop out…"

"Well, what are you suggesting?" Liam asked. "An abortion?"

Aglaia shook her head. "Royalty are forbidden from aborting any of their babies, or from using In-Vitro fertilisation. Or embryo adoption. Or having surrogate mothers carry the pregnancy. Even donor eggs and sperms are prohibited to us. In order for the line of succession to continue as naturally as possible- the traditional method is used." She said bluntly.

Robert heaved out a sigh. He turned around to face the wall. "I don't think we should punish Penelope and Maribel," Aglaia stated. "Goodness knows, those girls can't have had an easy time, and they're young. They definitely made a mistake." A big one. "But their mother is an entirely different story."

"I agree." Helena said unexpectedly, brutally even. "She should be whipped, beheaded or burnt alive."

Aglaia looked sceptically at her. "Really? In any case, she should be punished. She's obviously abused her own power, her parental authority over her daughters. Her position as a member of the royal family to get them with princes."

Unseen by them, Robert's eyes glinted. Yes, he did feel some guilt for putting Penelope and Maribel in this situation. But he knew better than most, including his siblings and even his own mother, the limits to a royals' freedom and rights. And Veruca had breached that. She was already a danger to his wife and children, Liam, Eleanor, his mother and himself. She had to go.

Robert's brow furrowed. While helping Aglaia with her English history before they married, they had come across the Wars of the Roses, or the Cousins' War as it was known then. Aglaia had heard that it inspired Game of Thrones.

* * *

 _A few years ago…_

Robert chuckled as she asked that question. "Well… It's true, maybe a little bit," he admitted.

"Without the dragons and the direwolves," he put in though. "Of course," Aglaia said dryly. "Not to mention the Red Priestess, and the White Walkers."

They both laughed. "Well… yes, but…. They do have something similar."

Aglaia blinked. "Like what?"

"Witches if you believe in that sort of thing," Robert said dryly. "Jacquetta of Luxembourg was the mother of Elizabeth Woodville the wife of-"

"Edward the Fourth," Aglaia remembered. "She was a commoner, wasn't she? So their marriage must have caused a stir."

"So did Jacquetta's marriage," Robert said. He passed her some novels. "In any case, Jacquetta married the Duke of Bedford in a political alliance, but once he died, she married Richard Woodville, one of his knights. She had to be fined for that, the way Catherine of Valois, Henry the Fifth's widow did when she married Owen Tudor."

"The… Father of the Tudor dynasty?" Aglaia asked. Robert nodded.

"Jacquetta was a practicing witch," Robert admitted. "Later they found things like lead charms. But she got away. Her first sister-in-law, Eleanor Cobham, Duchess of Gloucester, wasn't so lucky. She was accused of witchcraft on various accounts and then while the woman who supplied her with potions was burnt at the stake, another was hung, drawn and quartered, Eleanor was divorced and imprisoned for life. She died there." Robert exhaled. "Not pleasant. But back in those days…"

Aglaia shook her head. "Looks like the person that said this was right: history is really juicier than fiction."

"Yeah." Robert agreed. "But Jacquetta of Luxembourg was lucky. She got her marriage and she got off scotch-free."

* * *

And now Robert knew what to do. Jacquetta of Luxembourg did pay a fine. And it looked like Veruca would as well. And of course, she would be kicked out of the royal family. Stripped of her rank as an HRH and simply be called Her Grace the Duchess of Essex. She had to leave the royal family and if Cyrus stayed with her, so would he. In fact, Robert could very well…

He turned instantly to Aglaia. "Veruca is mostly to blame." He stated.

"I know," Aglaia agreed. "But if we want to keep silent-"

"Why should we?" Robert interrupted. "Keep silent?"

Helena, Aglaia, Eleanor and Liam exchanged astonished looks. "Well, because we're royalty." Helena spluttered.

It was Aglaia who first figured it out. Her eyes widened in realisation. "Oh," she said slowly. "If you make it clear Veruca was to blame, then her girls wouldn't be in so much trouble. They'll be protected, but their mother-"

"Faces legal retribution," Robert confirmed. "In court."

"Well, she deserves it," Liam agreed. "She's their mother. She's pimping out her girls to princes in order for them to get pregnant."

"And either steal the throne from Robbie and Will or some other poor sods from another dynasty," Eleanor muttered.

"She's to blame," Aglaia stated. "So… You do realise that you are going to have to take her title away?"

"Her HRH style?" Robert asked. "I already knew that." Aglaia looked grim.

"When a king of Spain's daughter was accused of corruption and fraud along with her husband, he took their titles of Duke and Duchess away." She stated. "The public will be expecting no less from us. Veruca Popperwell was created Duchess of Essex in the event of her- first- marriage to your uncle, Cyrus."

"After the divorce she retained her title," Helena continued. "And when she remarried Cyrus she gained back her style as an HRH. All to get the throne, for her daughter if not herself." Helena finished.

Len shook her head frustrated. "But that doesn't make any sense," she argued. "Will is first in line now, followed by Andrew and Selena and then me and Eleanor." Liam agreed. "Cyrus only comes afterwards and then there's Penelope and Maribel. She knows she has no chance of getting the throne, for Penelope, Cyrus or Maribel. There's no chance of that now."

"Unless a major _accident_ happens," Aglaia put in. "But then suspicion would indeed fall upon her and Cyrus. This is a cunning scheme, but she's not that clever." She looked at Robert. "She has to pay for this," Aglaia stated. "No mother does this to her _own children_. No royal duchess ever forced her daughters into disgrace like that. Or threatened the very reputation of the royal family."

"I thought it was already broken," Robert muttered in an undertone.

"Besides," Helena said, not hearing about it. "Once these royal houses and the press hear that Veruca's to blame, the name of Henstridge won't be as tarnished."

Somehow, Aglaia disagreed. They would still blame the family dynamics, she thought, thinking about those royal houses. But the brunt of the blame would fall upon Veruca.

"Especially if Robert strips her of her HRH style, takes legal action and probably strips her of her title as duchess." Aglaia said aloud. "We're scapegoating her?" She asked in disbelief.

"Darling, it's either her or us," Helena said grimly.

Aglaia bit her lip. "I don't like this," she stated bluntly. "I don't feel easy about this."

Helena went over to her and placed her hand on her shoulder. "I know," she said comfortingly. "But Veruca is responsible for this and she's simply paying the price." Even if they were doing this for more than one reasons.

"What about the princes?" Liam asked.

"They'll be in serious trouble," Eleanor pointed.

"But it won't be as bad if we take action first," Robert said quietly. "Either way…" He looked at her. "We could easily take the girls somewhere where they will give birth to their babies but this…"

"Solves nothing." Aglaia finished for him. She narrowed her eyes. "I suppose I'll be the one to teach Veruca a lesson in how to treat your own daughters."

Robert frowned. "Darling, are you sure?" He asked.

Aglaia scoffed. "I'd love nothing more, to give her a piece of my mind and teach her a lesson, from one mother to another. She's obviously failed in raising her offspring. She's clearly abused her power over them! Why? Because she wants to get on top, and get her children on the throne, that's why! What kind of…" She shook her head angrily and in disgust.

"Besides, I'll be formulating the action plan," she said through gritted teeth. "This is how things should be done."

"Why?" Robert questioned, the same time Liam asked, "What do you want to do?"

"As I said, strip her of her regained status as an HRH, and of her title as Duchess of Essex. Then inform her that there will be a fine paid to the offended royal houses as compensation and that she will be seen in court. I'll take action in suing her and then she'll probably be summoned to a hearing. She might go to jail," Aglaia admitted. "Even though she's royalty. And she needs to leave palace and all royal residences, not to make contact with any of us. Or she might just be heavily fined. Either way, we have to do this _now_. This is no less what people would expect. I know it might seem harsh," she admitted. "But she certainly abused her power over those girls- her own children. And as royalty, _and_ a mother, that is the last thing she should do."

Robert looked at them all. "Is this alright with everyone?" He asked.

Helena nodded. "I agree." Liam and Eleanor nodded too. "Same." Eleanor stated.

"Good," Helena announced. "Now it's all decided."

"I'll inform her then," Aglaia said.

* * *

Veruca was waiting outside, her lips primly pursed. Aglaia was the one who walked over to her.

"Forget all thoughts of a light punishment," Aglaia stated bluntly. "Your diplomatic passport is to be confiscated." Veruca's jaw dropped then closed.

"Your royal allowance is also to be _considerably_ reduced you," the queen continued. "As is your style of Her Royal Highness." Veruca's mouth opened again and made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a squeak.

"And your title as Duchess of Essex." Aglaia informed her point-blanc. "You are also henceforth, _barred_ from entering any royal residences official or unofficial. Your name is to be taken down from the official royal family website, and from Wikipedia, I believe," Aglaia put in sarcastically. "And you will be sued for this. Legal action is to be taken. By me. From one mother to another, the way you have treated and abused your power over these girls- _your_ own _daughters_ \- is despicable." She spat in disgust. "No mother pimps out her children in order to get them pregnant just so she could enjoy a taste of glory. You'll pay for this. We will also be informing Their Majesties the King of the Netherlands and the King of Swaziland. You had better come up with an explanation for them, because if I have to bring Their Majesties here to hear what you have to say for yourself concerning this matter, and the suspicion that you might have added Rohypnol to your daughters' drinks and the princes, you will be in serious trouble. The public certainly will have something to say about it. Enjoy the attention- that's what you wanted, isn't it?" Aglaia threw the last bit in her face before leaving the room.

* * *

Shockingly, Aglaia also informed the press, right after they had to explain to the various kings what their sons had done with Cyrus' girls.

Needless to say, Aglaia managed to be a soothing influence. It also helped that she had told them the punishment for Veruca Popperwell and the evidence that they had gained from the Chinese doctor, somehow, Helena had managed to come up with that.

And they were flaming mad- but not at Robert or Aglaia or even Helena and the twins.

No, it was all Veruca. And suspicions had fallen again on Cyrus.

These foreign kings knew that unlike Aglaia's family who had a blood claim, they had no right to interfere with who stays in Britain's royal residences and who did not. Especially a former king like Cyrus. But their displeasure was enormous. Aglaia acting meek, sweet and contrite and Robert grave, grim, sorrowful and comforting his wife certainly pacified them towards them. Even when they remembered Helena and the twins. But Cyrus? And Veruca?

Adriaan's family may have had to consider disowning and disinheriting him. The disgrace and scandal was bad enough. The Henstridge rot had affected the Greeks and now it was spreading to other royal houses and not just in Europe. The press would have a field day (courtesy of Aglaia, who gave Crenshaw the story on her version of events, rather than allowing this to leak into the press, or even worse, for Veruca to leak it her way, according to Helena's advice).

Prince Adriaan would have to marry Princess Penelope or Maribel- or risk losing his title. In fact, he might even lose it anyway. Thankfully he wasn't first-in-line. Prince Shabangu would have to do the same, although it wasn't so much because it would affect him in Swaziland where the kings' wives for example, had to get pregnant before they could be married, and therefore were still considered 'brides'. It would not affect the line of succession, but the diplomatic scandal could be disastrous in affecting his ability to be seen as eligible for the throne by those in charge, including his father and formidable, powerful grandmother.

And so the public woke to an _enthralling_ scandal.

* * *

"How dare she?" Veruca hissed. "The bitch!" She glared at her drink-sodded, now-useless husband who was again, wallowing down from a bottle.

She then looked at her photograph. It was too late. The press had been informed.

The framed photograph showed Cyrus and Veruca on their first wedding day. Veruca was radiant in an ivory duchesse silk-satin gown with a boned bodice adorned with richly detailed embroidery and a gently flared skirt with a long train that was adorned with motifs: Cyrus' and her own monograms and their joined one, flowers and honeybees coming from the bow-adorned bustle. She looked beautiful, radiant and as symbolised by those motifs and monograms, totally in love. Cyrus was grinning, for the first time without any pretences or malice on his face, nothing but pure joy for the sake of it, in a three-piece Alexander McQueen suit in a burgundy velvet jacket and tails, a dark wine-coloured waistcoat that almost looked black, made of shot-silk and black shirt with a patterned tie of storks and doves. Veruca smirked. That man had long gone. He had undergone transformations more than once, and now it was up to _her_.

Whether or not the new bitch of a queen stripped her of her titles, she wasn't defeated. Penelope and Maribel would both be queens and she would have her revenge, whether they liked it or not.

Aglaia Princess of Greece and Denmark, Queen of England would pay.

* * *

"So, Penelope and Maribel have decided: they're getting married," Aglaia pursed her lips.

"Aren't you against this?" Eleanor asked in disbelief.

"I am," she agreed. "But Prince Adriaan of the Netherlands faces complete disownment if he doesn't marry at least one of them- and Penelope has agreed. Prince Shabangu has also been pressured to propose. Maribel has accepted."

Len breathed out in irritation. "Why couldn't they have just used condoms like any normal person?"

Aglaia shook her head. "Based on the princes' and your cousins' accounts, they were completely stoned and drunk. They must have forgotten. And contraceptives are out of the question, considering the mother's involvement." She scowled. "It was a terrible motive. And a stupid way to go about it."

"Yeah, well, now she's been kicked out." Len scooped up a chunk of ice cream from her bowl. "She'll still be allowed visits to her kids?"

"Len, they're not children anymore," Aglaia sighed, sitting down. Len scooped up some ice cream for her in a bowl. "Thank you. They have a right to see her and technically, she's still the dominant force here. The press are having a field day," she sighed.

That was putting it mildly. Veruca had left by now. There was a house allocated to her up north. That was it.

And the marriage of Prince Adriaan and Princess Penelope was not something Aglaia would be happy to attend. In fact, she wouldn't attend at all. The same went for Princess Maribel and Prince Shabangu. Maribel had been a bit more direct- even too honest- about who slept with who. Penelope too. Even Adriaan and Shabangu, when forcefully interrogated by their respective parents, had to admit the truth. Adriaan did sleep with Penelope and Shabangu went with Maribel, who to his parents' and grandmother's distress, was not a virgin who underwent the traditional Reed Festival.

And Veruca steamed… And sizzled, and roasted, and all those metaphors for a horridly furious woman, a former duchess and now an estranged member- if still one- of the royal family, disgraced and dishonoured, poorer and battling legal trouble which the royal system should have protected her from, or so she believed.

The press were enjoying the scandal, but the public were relieved that it did not touch the king and queen. Who cared about Veruca Popperwell? Or the former king Cyrus who really wasn't all that liked, anyway, especially now? Or the king's two idiot cousins?

And then there was the fact that the Privy Council briefed him to disown and disinherit Maribel as a royal member of the Henstridge family and as an HRH, which Robert saw he had no choice but to do. That was just adding insult to injury as far as Veruca was concerned. Of course Maribel would still be an HRH and a princess but in Swaziland, and through her own husband. Robert resisted for a time, to make sure that Maribel's prenuptial arrangements were made and she would be comfortable and well-taken care of, even if none of them could see them often enough. Maribel and Penelope, Aglaia pointed out, were the victims in this.

The reason why the Hesntridges had to disown and disinherit Maribel was because she would be marrying likely a man who would be a polygamist. Whereas Penelope, the more fortunate one, it seemed, would still be retaining her status in Britain as well as the Netherlands, not that that was likely to make her any more popular.

* * *

Len finished her work in the sewing machine.

"All done," she announced.

Aglaia leaned forwards. "This is really great," she said enthusiastically. Len beamed.

"Right," Aglaia stated. She motioned for her to come up. "Let's see you in the dress then."

Eleanor looked hesitant. "I don't know," she admitted. Aglaia gave her a look. "You're going to have to wearing some of your designs. You could go to university but I'm afraid that's going to take some time. You've had to catch up, and catch up fast. There's going to be competition, there's going to be stress and tears so you don't have to-" but Len was already shaking her head.

"I _want_ to do this," she insisted. "I _need_ to do this. I should have done it years ago, earlier."

Aglaia nodded. "Just keep in mind, that because of your status you are going to have to push yourself much harder than all those people who were born into ordinary lives. People look at you and they see an emerging young woman- the people here know that you're no longer the wild party girl you were before, but they're still going to look at you and they see that you're trying to work, and they'll say, 'Oh look, how cute.' They won't take you seriously, like they didn't take me or Mizuki seriously either. The best of them may think it's quaint, others would look at you and say, 'Heck, she's a princess, what does she need to do this for? Not money, surely. Besides, she's grown up soft, had it easy her whole life. How talented can she possibly be in anything?' That's what they'll do." She moved closer to Eleanor and placed her hands on her shoulders.

"Traditionalists would not be happy to see you out and about, getting a life of your own and an existence outside the palace any more than they were when you were partying hard-out. Particularly as it's never been done in Britain. You'll be the very first." She smiled at Eleanor. "And based on what I know about your father, he'll be so immeasurably, unbearably proud of you."

Eleanor smiled, tears threatening to pour through. If only her father could be there, could see her now. Instead he had to die when she was a useless party girl stoned and totally wasted. Now she had turned her life around.

"So you have to push yourself. And remember: Walt Disney was once fired by a newspaper company because of his 'lack of imagination.'" Eleanor stared.

"Walt Disney?" She uttered in disbelief. "The creator of Mickey Mouse and Disneyland?"

"Same one," Aglaia said, humorously. "And he isn't the only one. People have been expelled from schools and yet one of them managed to reach the position of editor-in-chief of _Vogue_ magazine. There is an Oscar-winning actress who used to hand out pamphlets. People are going to put you down, but you have to get back up." She finished.

Len nodded. "I will. Thanks." She threw her arms around Aglaia, who returned the hug warmly. "Thanks," Len said when she withdrew. She struggled to keep her emotions in check. "You have no idea… When you came into our world, you showed us a new way of doing things, a better world… For all of us, our country, our friends and family…" Len smiled. "I didn't think it was really all that possible. But now it is. Now, I can actually live. I don't need drugs, I don't need alcohol and parties. I have this. And I have Jasper, so… Thank you."

Aglaia gave her a gentle smile. "Just remember, we're always here for you," she insisted, looking Len in the eye. "Me and Robbie. Always."

Len nodded and walked away with her newly-stitched clothing. "Ooh," she turned back to Aglaia. "Think there's a chance that I can open my own line of cosmetics as well?"

"Start small first, don't bite more than you can chew," Aglaia advised her, smiling.

Aglaia sighed. They had an important event the next day.

* * *

Penelope and Maribel's civil wedding ceremonies had to take place in Britain. Aglaia did not go. But Len was there. The three kings- four if you counted Cyrus- were all there. None of them were smiling. The kings of Swaziland and the Netherlands looked furious, terrifying as a matter of fact. King Sobhuza had a face like a terrifying stone statue meant to scare animals and spirits away. King Christoffel didn't look any happier, in fact you could see flames coming out of his eyes. Robert's expression was akin to that of a man attending a relative's funeral. So was Liam's.

No press, nothing. Penelope and Maribel had individual civil ceremonies but that was it. They were wearing their crazy outfits in a yellow splodged with bright fuchsia floral-patterned dress for Penelope with a gauzy petticoat beneath and a hat that looked like a fuchsia-coloured flower vase with roses, and white stalks and leaves spilling out. Maribel had a hot pink dress embellished with painted tulips, with blue butterflies in her dark red hat, a whole bunch of them looking like they were flying out.

"You couldn't have hooked up with that one?" King Sobhuza muttered, looking at Eleanor. She was stunning, no one could blame her. The first ceremony saw Penelope and a pale-looking Adriaan made husband and wife. The second saw Maribel with an ill-looking Shabangu for life.

Robert raised a glass afterwards. "To the newly-weds, then." He uttered. "Long life. Be warned, it's strong." So the brides were prohibited to take it but the kings drank deeply, even the former king Cyrus who was regarded with disgust by the other heads of state. Shabangu's mother's eyes looked like they were rimmed red from weeping but she restrained herself. Adriaan's mother had been to pale and sick to attend- the minute someone had informed her what had happened to her son, they had to call in a doctor to check her vital signs and she ended up in hospital.

Robert drained his glass in one go. He was going to need it. He saw Cyrus with constantly toting the bottle and feeding from it as if a starving infant the whole time.

The individual religious ceremonies would take place overseas, in Amsterdam and Mbabane the countries' respective capitals. The Privy Council and Robert had signed every available document to make sure that Maribel could no longer be considered a part of the British royal house before the civil ceremony had even taken place. But she was an HRH again.

And Cyrus was drunk. He nearly drowned in alcohol. The wedding breakfast was however attended by a very grave Aglaia who informed the kings that justice would indeed be served. And so was the food. She had arranged the meal.

There were orchids and tiger lilies and alstroemeria, pretty geraniums and tulips (Holland's own national flower). Aglaia had also prepared the food: poached eggs, chicken in a Madeira and cream sauce wrapped in crepes, or dessert ones with blueberries, strawberries, bananas served with maple syrup, fresh cream or whipped. A honey-roasted ham studded with cherries, bacon, ham and omelettes with chocolate cakes, petit fours, cannoli and doughnuts, sweet cakes, sponge cakes, apple pie, plums and peaches. If they enjoyed the food at least, she thought, they wouldn't be _too_ grumpy though it certainly wouldn't erase the humiliation.

It worked. Aglaia was beyond relieved. This was also a way of saying goodbye, though they could do nothing about Cyrus' presence, at least Veruca was not there. Helena nearly did not attend.

The meal was silent. The two brides must have been… Hungover or something. Liam couldn't be sure, but the tension was so enormous that at least the food made it worthwhile.

Afterwards, Robert took the two kings and queen of Swaziland to his own study to gravely and sincerely apologise to them while looking at them sorrowfully and mournfully in the eye. Like someone who owned the car company that accidentally killed someone with one of its products. None of the royals blamed him or Aglaia.

Especially as Veruca could not be counted as one anymore.

After the most sincere apologies, the wedding gifts- and more than one made for the individual kings who were truly and utterly convinced of the royal couple's sincerity and innocence in this, they departed. The religious ceremonies would not be a public spectacle.

Helena breathed out. "Well," she muttered. "Thank God that was over."

Spencer nodded. "Indeed, your majesty. That was terrible." He nearly shuddered.

"But the food at least, was excellent," Helena stated. "Indeed it was, your majesty. It might have served to soften the blows. And the atmosphere."

 _Damn,_ Helena thought. Thankfully that was over. No Cyrus, well, at least not sober, no Veruca, and no threats to her son and the rest of her family and their grip on the throne.

No harm done on their reputation either, Helena realised in astonishment. _Damn._

Well, thankfully that was over with.

* * *

Aglaia stood silently.

"Do you think that he is ever going to appreciate what you have done?" _His_ voice taunted her. _He_ was always behind her, always stalking her very step. She could smell _his_ scent, feel the terrifying heat of _his_ breath like the furnace of hell, _his_ form just right behind her…

"Do you even think," _he_ continued slowly. "That you are ever going to win? Now you've earned the hatred of a former duchess and your husband's aunt by marriage? Why? Because you insisted on handing out the punishment and putting it out in the open like a good, un-corrupted princess would." _He_ laughed, mockingly. "Why? Why not let your husband's family keep it quiet and put the girls aside, let them have their babies in secret?"

"Because it wouldn't be right," Aglaia found herself saying. "Our people deserve better than that."

"' _Our people'_?" _He_ laughed. "They deserve better, after so many lies and scandals. We need to fix this, their trust and relationship with their royal family."

"And you think that by moving your husband's family to the right path, or so you believe it is, that they would appreciate your efforts? That your husband truly and deeply cares for you, that he's moved on from his path of destructiveness? And your in-laws?"

Aglaia gritted her teeth. "He is a better man than you could ever hope to be. And as for Helena, Liam and Eleanor-"

"Would always be callous schemers right to the very end," _he_ said mockingly. "Or at least Helena will be. Both Liam and Eleanor are rather useless. And she's going to fail, you know that people will never see her other than anything that she's been. As for Liam…" _He_ laughed harshly.

"Shut up." She growled. "Go away."

"You'll call for me," _he_ taunted. "One night you'll call out my name, you'll long and dream of having me back. You'd wish I had taken you, far, far away from any earthly mess."

"Shut up." She whispered.

* * *

"I still don't know who designed your clothes, dears." Helena complained. Aglaia and Eleanor gave each other secretive, knowing smiles.

"Oh, the big revelation is going to come soon." Aglaia stated. Helena asked, "Is it you making those things."

"No," Aglaia said teasingly.

In his office, Robert was speaking with Alexios on skype. "Veruca is the greatest danger." He muttered.

"That's putting it mildly," Alexios remarked. "Trim the tree before the rot spreads, it was a good idea."

"But now the former duchess of Essex wants revenge on Aglaia," Robert said disturbed. "She knows that this was her idea. And that Aglaia just forcefully went up to her and informed her of her punishment like a judge in a courtroom." He shook his head. "Confound it all! Why did I let her do that?"

Alexios gave him a long look. "Do you think that you can really stop her from doing what she wants?"

"No," Robert admitted. "But now Veruca wants to get her back badly." He frowned. "Killing her won't be enough, she wants to disgrace Aglaia. Or maybe indirectly cause her death." That thought made his heart plummet down into a bottomless black pit. "The triplets will be vulnerable without their mother's influence, or mine. If she managed to remove me as well…" The thought of Aglaia and his children being vulnerable or harmed made Robert feel rage rising within him.

Alexios breathed out a sigh. "The wedding in the Netherlands has taken place. Adriaan and your cousin are married- well, if you can still call her your cousin." Robert and the Privy Council had already disowned her as well as her sister prior to this.

Robert nodded, having seen the pictures of Penelope and Adriaan. They married in a castle north of Amsterdam to afford them some privacy from the humiliation. Penelope dressed in an A-line white duchesse satin gown and train with a bateau neckline and short veil looked like similar to the Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland, though the dress was white. In short, it was covered completely in bows. Big bows to small ones, covering the skirt, the bodice and the train, the largest ones towards the end sweeping the floor. She clearly hadn't changed her style, her eyes looked slightly confused and her curls stuck out like they were glued along with the short veil.

Robert had asked Liam to attend the wedding with Cyrus and Jasper, to make sure that the bride's father, who was still entitled to walk down the aisle, did not disgrace himself in front of the Dutch royals. Too late, they all pointed out, but the damage needed to be minimised.

* * *

 _Before in the Netherlands…_

There weren't that many guests. And while the king was reluctant to shove his son's place in the order of succession out the window, it was still being discussed.

Cyrus drank a bottle of Madeira sherry. "As if I could endure more humiliation," he remarked, rolling his eyes before downing more alcohol.

"Go easy on the drink," Liam muttered to him. The Dutch royals were already giving them filthy looks. The king did not attend, but the weeping, red-eyed queen who was barely out of hospital, did.

This was nothing new, Liam realised. When they had come for Robert's and Aglaia's wedding a number of them had avoided Liam, Eleanor and their mother as well as Cyrus and his daughters like they carried the Black Death. Their greetings to Robert had been warmer and more respectful, and Aglaia was met with enthusiasm, apparently she was a great favourite among all of them, and they had spoken of his father with great respect and affection but the rest of them were, clearly, not liked, though Liam didn't notice.

Until now. No wonder Aglaia reacted as harshly as she did with Veruca, even though it stunned Liam. She was trying to save the family's reputation- a reputation which had been damaged…

After all, his father was murdered, as it turned out by the head of his own security. His mother admitted to having affairs and even Liam and Eleanor's paternity were put into question for that, during which Cyrus eagerly jumped at the medieval-esque opportunity to seize the throne. They must have reacted with that in disgust, even when they actually proved that Liam and Eleanor were King Simon's children.

Not to mention the scandals beforehand, Liam thought, remembering their wild days before Robert disappeared and 'died'. He didn't care less what they thought but now it was all-too different.

In the meantime, the bride appeared. Liam and Jasper hauled Cyrus who was drunk, to his feet. The groom's older brother looked at them in downright disgust and simmering resentment. Great, just great, Liam thought.

Cyrus' face was flushed pink and waxy. His eyes were red-rimmed and washed-out. Despite the shower and the numerous layers of cologne they had forced him to wear, Cyrus still smelt foul, like alcohol.

"Come on, you have to walk the bride," Liam muttered. They pushed Cyrus towards Penelope's direction. Crazily dressed as usual with a wreath of fuchsia-coloured roses on her head with the veil, Penelope and Cyrus got ready to walk the aisle.

The wedding guests, few as they were, made their way to the castle's chapel.

Veruca did not attend.

The wedding commenced.

* * *

Maribel had had a private ceremony in Swaziland. The marriage was not announced worldwide nor attended by anyone of the Henstridges, save for Eleanor who went with Jasper. But the girls were now pregnant and all they had to do was wait.

Robert sighed as he drank some champagne. "What a scandal," he muttered sourly.

"And scandals shake the monarchy," Alexios stated. "I hope the rest of your family understands that," he added, darkly.

Robert gave a curt nod.

"Well," Alexios stated. "There's going to be a much happier wedding in Athens. See you there." The skype turned off.

Robert sighed as he leaned back against his chair.

"Hey," Aglaia smiled, gently, lovingly as she came in. He looked up and grinned, the only bright grin he was capable of giving was to her or the triplets.

"Hey." She came behind him, kissing him sweetly. He prolonged the kiss. It instantly made everything lift, all the darkness, everything. He had her and he still wanted her. That was everything. Her and the children.

"You have absolutely no idea how much better I feel now that you're here," Robert admitted.

She looked concerned. "What happened?"

Robert groaned. "The scandal," he admitted, sitting upright. He rubbed his face. "The fact that people now really think it's a curse to be associated with us, even though they don't blame you or me."

Aglaia sighed. "Then we have to change that." She said grimly. "The future is ours to decide."

He nodded. "Yes." He kissed her passionately again, before snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her down on his lap.

"Robbie," she hissed. Robert laughed. "What? Don't like it?" he teased. "Come on, we used to do it all the time." The memory of it, and what usually came afterwards made her turn crimson.

Robert started kissing his way down her neck. His hands craftily went up her skirt.

"Robert," she nearly moaned. "Here?"

"Why not?" He whispered. "It's not as if this is something we haven't done before."

Their courtship- if you could call it that- had never been official. Instead, the two of them had something of a clandestine affair. It was reckless. It was suicidal. The king of Britain and the daughter of the king of Greece, sneaking off to see one another, to eat, talk, play around, walk and see things or just make love. If anyone had found out, that would have been it. International diplomatic crisis to say the least. But that didn't stop Robert.

His fingers undid the buttons of her blouse and his own.

Then suddenly the door flew open.

Aglaia instantly jumped off Robert's lap, her back to the door so no one could see her unbuttoned blouse.

Thankfully Robert's own clothing didn't get far either.

"Pardon me, your majesties," Rachel said covertly. "But there's someone here to see the king."

Robert frowned and sighed. "Thank you, Rachel." He gave Aglaia a regretful look once Rachel had left. "Another time, perhaps."

Aglaia sighed. "We should keep this behind locked doors." She shuddered. "Remember the pill and bowls of medicine my mother gave me? What if she really wanted to make sure? Or my brothers didn't trust anyone here?"

Robert sighed. He really didn't want to tell her, that would put her off, but even so, he did admit he found a bug at his desk and on the sofa, and various other places where they did have sex. It was somewhat amusing, he admitted to himself, the fact that they must have heard them. Well, they asked for it, he decided brutally. And that certainly wasn't going to put _him_ off.

Aglaia shook her head, smiling. "I've let you corrupt me, my mother would say. You do know I wanted to become a nun, right?"

Robert winced. "Don't remind me."

If she had…

He didn't want to think about it.

But something else brought things to mind. Aglaia had once suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder, as did he. Once, if things had been very different they would have never married. They might not even have met. Aglaia would have been delivered into the arms of that monster who treated her like he owned her and she was his most priceless treasure to show off, use and hoard to himself, killing anyone who tried to take her. Of course, they were themselves… Robert's eyes darkened. He was the one who persuaded Aglaia to not enter a convent. Him and Leonidas Dimitriou whom Robert still loathed. He hoped Alexios did do as he promised to, and got rid of that bastard.

But how do you get rid of the dead? Aglaia was haunted by the ghost of that man. The man she considered marrying. A dark, deep and terrible fury rose within him. He really hoped, for that bastard's sake, that he really was dead and rotting in hell. People just kept popping back when they were supposedly dead.

Thankfully, the Greek Ministerial Council and Parliament could see through his lies. And his abuse of her. But as Robert stroked his wife's cheek and leaned in for another kiss, he realised that he really wished he could have killed the bastard himself. Partly out of hatred for the way he treated her. Partly because he still haunted her. And Robert wanted him out, _far_ out.

"See you soon, love," he said in a husky tone, before Aglaia left.

* * *

 _Years back…_

Aglaia sat there, on the floor of her apartment in London, holding the miniature portrait in her hands.

It was her father, King Konstantinos, in a diamond-encrusted frame mounted upon a blue ribbon. The royal family order of King Konstantinos of Greece. It signified her status as the first (well, only) daughter of King Konstantinos, monarch of Greece. First class. Traditionally worn by the female members of the royal family because they did not usually undergo military service but worn by those that did so anyway. The king's monogram was engraved behind it.

She had to tell him. Robert. She needed to tell him the truth. About her family…

 _And how much they hate his,_ she thought sarcastically. _And how you kept this from him for weeks now. Yes, that's something to tell._

But she needed to do it. She owed it to him. She let her personal feelings get in the way, and now…

 _Now what?_ She scolded herself. He was the king of not just England but the whole United Kingdom. She was the daughter of the king of the Hellenes. She shouldn't have let this be forgotten. But the truth was, that every time she was with him, that every time he held her close, she forgot about it. For the first time in her life, it felt like he was just a man and she was just a woman.

But she needed to be honest with him. And he might hate her, it might break her heart but Robert needed to know the truth and then he could decide whether or not he would see her again.

He deserved that. She took a shaky breath and tried to quell the fact that her heart felt like it would break.

Suddenly there was a sudden knock.

Aglaia opened the door. There he was looking a million shades of gorgeous, though he was simply dressed.

"Robert-" Aglaia began only to be cut off when his lips collided forcefully with hers.

She almost stumbled backwards into the apartment, with Robbie following, both of them kissing the other passionately.

Thankfully, the door shut of its own accord.

"I've missed you," he breathed. He kissed her again, with even more passion, his hands and arms enfolding her and pulling her tight towards him.

"I've been trying to get away to see you for such a long time," he said breathlessly. "God, how I love you." He went to kiss her again, but she turned her head away and pulled back.

"Aglaia?" He asked, concerned when she took a step back. Aglaia took a deep breath and turned away from him, before turning right back. She needed to look him in the eye when she told him this.

"What is it?" he asked, getting more concerned now. "What's happened?" He froze. She wasn't about to break up with him now, was she?

"I have something important to tell you," she said quietly. Robert was silent for a moment.

"Is it about your family?" He asked. He always suspected that she was a member of an aristocracy. But Aglaia had told him that Greece didn't have much of an aristocracy. It always confused him.

Aglaia was a mass of contradictions. Even the smallest thing about her. She was so poised, so well-spoken and graceful when she first met him, like she had been raised in a royal court and trained in royal etiquette all her life. She was certainly graceful, like a dancer and she carried more poise and regal, serene grace than he had ever seen in his entire life, even his own mother could not hope to match her. But she could definitely cook and clean the way that his mother, father, uncle, brother, sister and himself could never have imagined. After all, they had always had these things done for them. He still cringed remembering the disaster at Christmas.

And then there was Aglaia herself. She was the most genuine person he had ever met. There was nothing fake about her- absolutely nothing. She was sweet, highly intelligent to a degree that would astound people, charming without meaning to be, beautiful without knowing (the only person who didn't care that much and only cared because she had to- as a force of habit, she admitted to him when dressing up to go to outside). She was funny, and highly entertaining but without being doing anything considered mildly inappropriate. Genuinely kind and compassionate, yet sophisticated and refined. Generous, and helpful, firm in her beliefs to put others before herself- in fact it seemed a part of her, putting others before herself. As soon as she walked into a room, or he did when she was there. He could feel her presence. Her warmth and radiance, and yet she was serene, soothing and tranquil. With her, there were no troubles, no darkness, absolutely. She was talented but didn't think much on it. She was determinedly independent. And even though she was always elegantly-dressed and well-groomed- she dressed better than his own sister and mother at times- she was always did so with appropriate modesty. Later, he was shocked to learn she made a great deal of her own clothes and could make a lot from a little.

She would be the brightest-shining queen in the world, Robert thought to himself. He knew she was the one. This was meant to be. And no matter what he was not going to let go of her.

"Aglaia," he said softly. He had heard from her that her family and those in their circles overseas, in Greece and the rest of Europe, saw the events in Britain's royal palace, first in concern and then in growing wariness, suspicion and mistrust. Robert winced inwardly. You couldn't blame them. A king that was murdered by a member of his own security, a queen that had affairs that resulted in the question of her own children's paternity- a case which shocked, horrified, and probably turned a lot of people against his mother. And which Cyrus, their own uncle must have gleefully taken advantage of, since he was crowned king not long after. And then came the news that the paternity test on Liam and Eleanor were fake, and that there must have been corruption, fraud and bribery involved, and his uncle was, of course, suspected. And then they were proven his father's children. Oh, and he didn't really die, he was presumed dead and then returned out of the blue, explaining that his father's killer had done that to him and taking his place as king. Almost forgot the last bit, he thought sarcastically, inwardly shaking his head.

Yup, the whole world must have thought them crazy and avoided them like the plague.

Aglaia's family… He intended completely, knowing this from the bottom of his heart, never being so certain in all his life, to make her his wife and queen.

Aglaia was looking at him with a thoroughly vulnerable look which astounded him. "Aglaia," he said quietly. He never imagined… "What's wrong?" He whispered. He came to her, enveloping her in his arms, but after a while, she turned away, taking a shaky breath.

"What's happened?" He asked. Did her family find out? Was she being taken back to Greece? A flood of ice ran through him. _No, it can't be…_

Aglaia instead, shook her head and said, "You told me I didn't have to speak about my family if I didn't want to. If I'm not comfortable with that… And that it changes nothing. But you see… Even though I was under executive orders not to tell anyone during my time in England, I do have to tell you this. And I'm afraid," he was shocked to see- was that _tears_ in her eyes? Aglaia who was always so strong?

"That it does change a lot of things," she whispered. "I'm sorry Robert, I'm so sorry. And if you no longer want anything to do with me after this, I completely understand."

Robert blinked. "What? Why would you think that?" He asked incredulously. He came to her again. "Hey," he said quietly. "I love you. No matter what the truth is."

Aglaia shook her head. She pressed something into his palm.

It was a miniature portrait suspended from a blue ribbon made of watered silk the portrait was mounted on a frame studded with diamonds. It held the picture of a handsome man, in mid-age with dark hair and striking features. He recognised this thing at once.

"A royal family order," Aglaia said quietly. "The royal family order of the Kingdom of the Hellenes, first class. It signifies that I am the first and only daughter of Konstantinos, king of the Hellenic Kingdom- of Greece." She took a step back.

Robert stared at her. Astounded. She was… The king's daughter… He had never suspected, though he always thought…

Konstantinos, King of Greece. She was his daughter.

She was the princess of Greece.

Holy shit.

He was in love with… She was…

Aglaia turned around. "So now you know," she said dully. "I was under executive orders from the government and Ministerial Council- our cabinet- to avoid your palace. And not to tell a single soul of my identity if I insist upon giving my bodyguards the slip- which they know they can't stop me from doing." She laughed sadly, shaking her head. She turned back to face him. "But meeting you was far from any plan of mine. Falling in love with you… Was not something I ever thought or dreamed I would, but I couldn't help it." She took a deep breath.

He honestly didn't know how to proceed now. He now understood her poise, her grace, her knowledge of royal duties and social etiquette, and how she had managed to help him enormously. And she knew how to avoid paparazzi, something his brother and sister tend to fail to do. In fact, even more than him, she seemed eager to get away from anywhere where there might be photographers and journalists. She had shied away from taking a picture with him during their third meeting and now he knew why.

He still wanted her. More than anything, truth be told. He remembered how he came to her many times when he could get away, when his duties were finished. Just being in her presence, feeling her in his arms, her lips against his, seeing the light in her eyes, her smile, hearing her musical voice and laugh, was more than enough of a reason to live. It was the best thing that happened to him since he came back, and now he found himself more glad than he could ever possibly be that he did. He stayed in that island for a long time, believing that he had disappointed his father and England and that he deserved this. He hated the rigid formality and protocol that he had lived his entire life with but had gotten used to. Hated the fact that there was no other way, that he had no other life. And then he came back, hopes and dreams about being with Kathryn again, only to find out that she had flown to his brother's arms.

Really, he wasn't shocked and he did understand that these things do happen, but Liam? His own brother? And Liam was clearly still infatuated with her, based on his actions. Robert only needed to put two and two together.

But Aglaia was his life. His hopes and dreams. His very existence and breath. He couldn't live without her. Not now, and not ever. Not that he'd been the most fortunate man ever, to have met her when he was about to give up all hope. She was his life now.

His love and sole existence. Not his kingdom, not his crown. Not all the stupid, ridiculous schemes inside palace walls. _Her._ Only her.

He stepped forwards without thinking. "I love you." He stated. "I don't care about politics. I don't care about the throne. Or what my own family will think. I love you."

And she looked at him with those wide almond, striking emerald eyes. Her mouth opened and closed, but Robert leaned forwards and gave her a passionate kiss.

He loved her. That was all that mattered. Their love.

* * *

Aglaia was shaken out of her thoughts by Will. He grunted in his sleep, shifting slightly. Aglaia smiled lovingly at her firstborn son. She adjusted the covers so he would be warm.

The babies were sleeping more and more now, she thought. They had developed their own sleeping patterns. Their digestive systems had also developed so they certainly did not need to go for a feed every two hours.

The blue nursery was now encased in night. The heavy curtains and sheers were pulled shut. Will rested in his silver, Bordeaux-panelled crib and Aglaia drew the sheer net around, unable to resist kissing him ever so lightly. Will stirred but didn't wake. How she loved him! How she loved them all.

And now she knew why her parents were so terrified for her. Now she understood. Aglaia watched her precious baby son sleep, his body rising and falling with every breath before she walked softly out of the room.

She checked on Andrew who was peaceful now that he was sleeping in his ebony crib. The sheer canopy surrounding Selena's crib was adorned with glow-in-the-dark stars and there were smiling stars, moon and fairies in her mobile swirling gently around, giving her sweet dreams, Aglaia thought smiling.

How she would not only die, but kill for these children, Aglaia thought. They were so young, so innocent, so new and so _priceless_ to her and Robert, now she knew.

And she wasn't going to let ghosts ruin her happiness. Or shadows. She would be thankful for what she had.

Even though she had gained a deadly enemy.


	15. Chapter 15

**To** **Superdani4Ever** **: Oh, Veruca _hates_ Aglaia like poison now. You can bet something BIG is coming! And Big Fat Royal Wedding in Greece, next chapter!**

 **Yeah. Minus the direwolves, the dragons and the general coolness of knights in armour. I can't imagine Cyrus surviving against the likes of Petyr Baelish and Varys.**

 **Unfortunately yes, the Henstridges will be blamed. Liam is starting to realise the depth of other royals' and politicians' dislike for them, he didn't know before because he never usually hung out with them. They are really mistrusted to say the least, now.**

 **Len's going to have, ahem, an interesting time with her fashion label ;). And of course Aglaia will be happy to help. :)**

 **Which one, the civil service or the religious one in Amsterdam with all the angry royals?**

 **Aglaia has had a traumatic past, much like Robert. It's how she understands him and helps him get better. Helping him is also like therapy for her.**

 **Oh, he's always going to be there for her. He'd die and kill for her if necessary, and their children.**

 **There's going to be more flashbacks with Robert and Aglaia (I'm not going that deep though :l No way!)**

 **No, Robert was not the one who convinced her not to become a nun. The government stopped her because there wasn't that many people in the Greek line of succession and Aglaia not marrying or having children and making a commitment towards a life like that, would not be good if they wanted more heirs. And I'm not saying yet. ;)**

 **As for Robert and Aglaia, theirs is a really sweet and deeply passionate, yet loving and understanding relationship. I think Robert would have pictures of her taken in secret, unlike with Kathryn, because he really was dead-set on making her his queen from the start.**

 **No, I don't own _Royals_. Thank _E!_ for that!**

* * *

 **Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now.**

Len stared at the picture.

This young woman was declared one of the World's Hottest Young Royals by Forbes magazine. The princess of Thailand.

She was beautiful, Len admitted. And she was stylish and elegant, well-groomed in a way that made Len cringe.

"So, Perrine Bruyere is the designer I wanted to talk to you about," Aglaia was saying. "Looking for an apprentice." She smiled. "And that one might be you."

"So… She won't think I'm a spoiled brat?" Eleanor asked hesitantly.

"I didn't say that," Aglaia replied. "She might already have some ideas and preconceptions about you. But as it so happens I've been wearing your clothes for quite some time now, and I've asked others to do the same- high profile people and they were actually happy to do so." She smiled. "They even winked when someone asked them, and smiled. That was it. Now…" She grinned enticingly.

"Yes, but will it compare to…" Len trailed off.

"Leni," Aglaia said. "Stop comparing yourself to her. She's had years for this. You've only just begun. Besides your styles and tastes are very different. You two aren't the same."

"But what if… They think I'm crap at this?" Len asked. Her clothes weren't made professionally.

"I don't think you're crap." Aglaia said in surprise. "I took the risk of wearing your clothes out there in the public eye, and I asked others if they wanted to do the same and they did. Tell me, if you were a queen, would you risk wearing anything outside that might reflect badly on you?"

"No," Len admitted.

"Then there you have it." Aglaia replied. "Now all you have to do is impress him. Not just with your designs, but your hard work and commitment and your sincerity to do well." She held up a manila envelope. "And these are things those people who wore your clothes for free had to say about you and them."

* * *

The fashion show commenced. They were in Monaco. Len's head was poking out, as they watched the show. Princess Arinya of Thailand was there.

And her collection was astounding. It was beautiful.

The jewelled and filigreed inlays and the rich, lustrous colours and soft, floaty fabric glowed. The jewellery was beyond astonishing. The pieces proudly worn on display by the models.

And Eleanor felt herself squirm all the more.

Aglaia, meanwhile looked pointedly at Jasper, catching his gaze covertly and then looking back at Len. Jasper was the only one apart from Aglaia who knew and he also agreed with her, encouraging Len.

She would need his support now. Len was biting her lip.

* * *

Aglaia looked at the babies. Robert was with Andrew trying to keep him still, but the little boy was trying to squirm his way free. He had a fierce look on his face and she knew he would probably be interested in a career in the military when he was grown.

In contrast Will and Selena were playing on the playroom floor. Will was showing his sister some blocks, she cooed and he began piling them and seemingly directing her to pile some more on top.

Aglaia had to smile. Will seemed to have taken his role as firstborn seriously and was taking good care of his siblings. Whenever Andrew or Selena fell and the latter was about to burst into tears or in Andrew's case, work his way into a tantrum, he would give a calling cry to his mother, a nanny or his father- anyone, while carefully crawling to them, making sure his little siblings were alright.

He loved them, they loved each other.

Andrew tried squirming his way out of his father's grasp.

Selena abandoned the blocks her brother was so studiously playing with and began to crawl, or rather, drag herself to her mother.

Aglaia smiled. Selena took hold of a nearby table leg and in front of everybody's astonished eyes, began to pull herself up.

Aglaia gasped in delight, as her chubby-legged baby daughter, in front of her envious brothers' eyes, pulled herself up.

Robert's eyes were wide and a grin spread across his face in delight.

She did it.

Andrew began grunting repeatedly, crawling over to the table, but he didn't make it before somebody came in.

"Apologies, your majesties," that person was Rachel. "But we've just had a call."

"From where?" Robert asked. "From Amsterdam," Rachel replied. "Princess Penelope has gone into labour."

Aglaia tilted her head curiously. "She hasn't had the baby yet, though?"

"No ma'am." Rachel replied. "She hasn't."

Robert absorbed this in silence. "Very well, then. Rachel, can you please keep us informed?"

"Duly noted, your majesty." Rachel replied.

* * *

Penelope heaved and her normally pale face was unusually flushed.

She was trying to breathe normally. "I can't do this," she moaned.

"Yes you can." Her heavily pregnant sister said, encouragingly on skype. "Course you can. Remember, it's like having a great big poo, only instead of shit, it's a baby."

Penelope groaned- and promptly screamed.

Her sister's- seeing all the action below from the screen- eyes widened and she fainted.

"Well, that's a great help, thank Mum for withholding the Bolivian cocaine while I was pregnant, makes it really bearable, doesn't it?" Penelope said snappily.

The doctors were going around, speaking to each other in Dutch. Penelope had been photographed wearing traditional costume, but she hadn't mastered the language. Heck, she was hopeless. So she heaved and strained without knowing what the hell he was on about.

* * *

"There's something else, ma'am." Rachel said hesitantly.

"What is it?" Helena asked, lifting her head wearily.

"Veruca Popperwell… She's gone."

Helena straightened. "What?"

"The _former_ duchess of Essex… She's nowhere to be found."

Helena nearly scrambled up. "Did you tell the king?"

"He is being informed right now," Rachel said simply.

* * *

"WHAT?!" Robert demanded.

"Where has she gone?!"

"No one knows sir, but the duchess- the _former_ duchess of Essex received a visitor last night. It was no one special, just a deliveryman."

"Delivering _what?"_

"Take-outs sir." Rachel replied.

"Are you sure?" Robert asked in a deadly-quiet voice.

"Indian take-outs; lamb vindaloo and butter chicken," Spencer looked up from the report. "And a naan bread."

Robert tried to remain calm. "And when did you receive the tip-off that she had gone? And from whom?"

"From a member of security assigned to keep tabs on the former duchess," Rachel replied. "And standing by on alert. The agent reports that there was a tunnel leading from the basement to the outside. There was a taxi. It appears the former duchess must have scrambled off."

"Where?"

"To Heathrow Airport."

"But she doesn't have a diplomatic passport anymore." Robert scowled. "Is she using fake identification?"

"It's possible," Spencer admitted.

"MI6 and Scotland Yard have already questioned staff at Heathrow," Rachel put in. "It appears that the former duchess is heading for South Africa."

"To go to Swaziland," Robert muttered. He scowled further. "Maribel. And Penelope, no doubt. But she's currently in labour in Amsterdam. How is she supposed to keep in control of both daughters? And somehow, I don't think she's interested in the imminent births of her grandchildren alone."

* * *

He got that right. Veruca smiled, trying to regain some composure and dignity as she stood, face to face with the most powerful woman in Swaziland: the Queen Mother.

The queen mother was a formidable woman, her mere presence could set people quaking in their shoes.

Her title was _Ndlovukati_ , meaning 'She-Elephant' or 'Great She-Elephant' and her son was titled the _Ngwenyama_ or the 'Lion of Swaziland'. They ruled jointly as absolute rulers, administrative heads and spiritual ones.

It was she who presided over the Reed festival where girls would perform labour for her and dance and sing. The king normally picked his next bride from there.

The queen mother had also ruled as regent- during a power-struggle which had always appeared to make it seem as if she was innocent. She did not blame the Henstridges for their own power struggle, just their absurd inability to keep it behind closed doors. Now they lured her foolish, stupid grandson to their struggle and it was _this_ woman's fault. She had great respect and admiration for the king and queen, but this woman, the king's aunt by marriage, was someone she was just aching to kill.

She sat there, enjoying the power she had to make the redhead squirm.

Silence. Even Veruca's smile had all but gone.

The queen mother spoke: "You were foolish to come here. I could have you arrested."

"On what charge?" Veruca tried to speak normally. "Seducing my grandson," the old woman said bluntly. "Luring him to conceive a child with your stupid, useless daughter. On humiliating and disgracing the name of this royal house as well as your own and that of the Netherlands. You have no diplomatic value here or anywhere, now that your king has discarded you." Veruca went paler than her normal shade.

"And causing the humiliation and disgrace in front of the whole world," the queen mother all but growled. "You were incredibly foolish: what on earth will prompt you to think that I will not have you arrested and handed back to England's monarchs, where you will stand trial for prostituting your own daughters?"

Veruca managed to regain some of her nerve. "I am their mother," she finally managed. "I was just looking out for their best interests-"

"By getting them pregnant?" She scoffed. "And publicly humiliating our houses?"

"The _queen of England_ was the one who brought this story out," Veruca hissed.

"The queen of England, is a much more honest person than you are," The queen mother retorted. "And a much better wife and mother. She would never force her daughters to open their legs or get pregnant without marriage or royal permission."

Veruca just sat there, tight-lipped. She longed to throw this old woman back in her face, but she was at a disadvantage here. She played recklessly, because she knew few people would want to have a long-term relationship with her daughters. It was a fatal mistake which had allowed Aglaia to gain advantage over her and strip her of everything she had cherished. Now, she swore, she would not make any reckless mistakes and if she had to grovel to get revenge, she would.

"Please, your majesty," Veruca pretended to beg. "Just… Let me see my daughter. My Maribel." The queen mother scoffed. "Please. I just… I need to see her, see if she is alright. She is pregnant, after all, and as her mother-"

The queen mother shot her a deadly glare.

"I don't know why I allowed you to come to my residence," she said contemptuously. "Now. you leave." She said bluntly and rudely.

Stinging in the face of her humiliation, Veruca knew she couldn't back down now. But she had no idea what to do.

But while she was rushed into the car, the driver turned around.

"A message," He said bluntly. "From Inkhosikati LaBatsuela. Mother of Prince Shabangu. And a summons to meet her."

* * *

The tall, graceful, beautiful woman with the rich coffee-coloured skin and sculpted, elegant features was one of the many wives of King Sobhuza.

She eyed Veruca unpleasantly.

"So you're the one who orchestrated your dimwit child to seduce my son." She said bluntly. "Because you needed a royal heir."

Veruca tried to breathe deeply. "Your daughter is not fit to be a mother," the queen stated.

"With all due respect, your majesty," Veruca fake-simpered. "I-"

"Save your simpering excuses, I don't need them," she said brutally. "The only reason I have called you here, is because my son needs to become the next king- and I can't act alone. You were stupid to go to the _Ndlovukati_. She has no sympathy for you and over a hundred grandchildren through that one son alone. What does my child- or yours- or our shared grandchild matter to her? Or the king?" She scoffed. "Things are different in England. You don't understand how things work here. What it takes to make _my_ child the next king… And _yours_ the mother of the future king and not just one of many wives, but _Ndlovukati_ \- Great She-Elephant and queen mother- joint head of state with our grandson."

Veruca's mouth dropped open. So this was what it was all about. Even the mental images as Maribel parading about in an elephant costume did not deter her from the actual fact.

She would have power _here_. As an absolute ruler. As head of state. Far more- _infinitely_ more- than in England.

"Help me," Queen LaBatsuela stated, enticingly, walking forwards towards her. "Help me become _Ndlovukati_ \- Great She-Elephant, Queen Mother. And I will make sure your daughter rules supreme along with her son when the time comes." She whispered, eyes never leaving Veruca's massive ones.

"Bar none," she finished softly but firmly.

As absurd as this woman wanting to be an elephant, if Maribel had to put on an elephant costume in order for her to rule supreme (and have Veruca rule through her) then by all means, she would make sure that happened, even if it was the last thing she did.

And vengeance would be hers.

* * *

"Why did you do it?" Robert confronted Aglaia.

"Do what?" Aglaia said softly, sitting in front of her dressing table mirror, taking off her earrings carefully.

Those were the earrings- among the many heartbreakingly beautiful jewels her parents had given to her for her wedding day. It was her something new and she wore it when she married Robert- the love of her life, the only man she ever truly loved.

"Initiate the punishment yourself," Robert exclaimed. "Inform it to her, and sue her, instead of leaving it to me?" He demanded. "Do you realise what you've done? Now Veruca is missing- she might have orchestrated a stupid idea to get her daughters married and her in a position of power- but she's disappeared." He moved closer to her. "And God knows we've clearly underestimated her. And she's out for vengeance."

"I know," Aglaia said quietly. The way she said it made Robert freeze.

"You _what?"_

"I know," Aglaia repeated turning towards him.

"I knew she was capable of seeking vengeance even though she concocted a very stupid plan to get herself in a position of glory and power. But it was either you or me. Or the rest of our family including, God forbid- our children. And I couldn't risk that." Aglaia sighed and turned back around. Her emerald eyes met Robert's midnight-blue ones through the mirror. "You're my husband. The only man I have ever loved and the father of my children. I love you. Plus, you'll survive without me, you always have."

Robert's eyes flashed when she said that an in a single stride he was right behind her. "Is that what you think?" He quietly demanded.

"That I could live, to survive without you?" The fire in his eyes flared highly and dangerously. Aglaia looked down.

"I know what needs to be done," she said quietly. "I already decided to strip Veruca off her title and style of HRH, as well as her diplomatic passport and all other privileges that goes with her rank and marriage and getting her in legal trouble. I hesitated in scapegoating her, but if we punished her first and quickly, then you and the rest of the family would be spared. The other royals will still suspect your mother, uncle, brother and sister, along with members of your staff, but the damage will be incredibly minimal and your name is absolutely clean. I made sure of it. I knew I had to act quickly and decisively in things like this. I never trusted her. And of course, I was afraid. But I'm more afraid of what she could do, so I had to act. And I also informed the press, using my own words. I had to get the word out before she did- spreading rumours and such. I had to make the message loud and clear, even if it involved the embarrassing details. Of course I humiliated her. Of course she's in serious trouble. Of course she wants revenge. But on _me_. Not the monarchy, not the family, not your mother, your siblings, the children or _you."_

"By putting _yourself_ in danger?" Robert shot back. "Do you have any idea… Do you realise-" he shook his head. "If anything were to happen to you," he said quietly, intensely. "I'm not sure what I'll do." He admitted quietly, his voice restraining itself from breaking.

Aglaia breathed deeply. "I did what any queen, wife and mother would do." She replied evenly. "I protected the monarchy, I protected the family, just as I protected _you._ And our children." She finally looked at him through the mirror. "Can you honestly blame me?" She demanded. "I did what I did for you."

"And that's why I'm so afraid," Robert said through gritted teeth. "Do you think Veruca will even consider that I am to blame- right now, her motives for vengeance is focused on _you._ Not me." He exhaled heavily. "If anything were to happen to you…" He choked. "I… I don't think I can live with it. I've already lost so much. You were the one person I was determined not to lose, even if it meant giving up the throne. Remember when we were still sneaking off to see each other?" He laughed softly, along with her. "My heart was dead-set on you from the very beginning, and I couldn't move it away, even if I tried. Even if I wanted to. Even though I knew that it was a dangerous thing to do, I still couldn't even think about giving up on you and moving on. I didn't want to lose you, and I wasn't going to let my family's destroyed reputation and the state of our monarchy get in the way."

"I remember," Aglaia sighed. She closed her eyes. They had to overcome a lot of obstacles. Not just her over-protective family, their relations and the scandal-ridden House of Henstridge. The Greek parliament were locked in a fierce debate whether or not the marriage should commence. The Ministerial Council were trying to put their foot down and entered secret negotiations with the British Privy Council to try to persuade Robert to drop her. He refused- they both did. It was either her or no one, Robert had sworn. Same with Aglaia. The Greek media's papers were full of praises about Robert and the late king Simon, but salacious, wicked, rather merciless stories about Liam, Eleanor, Helena, Cyrus and his daughters and the danger emphasised on what would happen if she were to marry into 'the royal family from hell'. There were petitions signed, even some people publicly disagreed with the princess' choice to marry into the family. They swore and speculated that the House of Henstridge would be 'the rope she would hang herself with'.

But people also said it was true love and it was. The emphasis was that the princess was third-in-line for her country's throne and Greek Orthodox. To become queen consort of Britain, wouldn't she have to convert to the Church of England? And thus limit the royal house to _two_ heirs?

Yes, that was that problem.

"I love you," Robert whispered. "You have no idea… What I would do for you."

More than just giving up the throne, or even die- he would kill. In fact, he already did- once. He would do it over a million times if he had to.

Robert wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned back, sighing against his caress. He began kissing her neck. But even though the thought of the oncoming storm was temporarily dispelled that night, Aglaia couldn't forget. She could still feel the grey-blue eyes boring into her, see the flash of _his_ auburn hair and hateful sneer as _he_ looked down at the couple, lying in bed, enveloped in each other's tangled limbs and covered only by the sheets.

No, she had her ghosts. She couldn't forget. And neither could he.

* * *

 _Years earlier…_

"I love you," he breathed against her lips, before collapsing on top of her, covered in sweat and panting heavily.

His arms tightened around her, as he still breathed heavily, trying not to crush her with his weight, trying desperately, futile though, to push back the ebbing forces of desire and pleasure that still remained.

This had been her first time. And even though he had done it before, this time… Was indescribable.

Slowly he looked up at her, his eyes clouded over with passion but still realising in concern that she was shaking a little.

"Love?" He asked, his voice still hoarse.

"I'm fine." She whispered. But she wasn't. He frowned, went off her and pulled her to him.

They had their duties. Their responsibilities. The differing conflicts. And he was certain her family would have something to say about this.

But as he lay on his back, Aglaia pressed to him, he knew they had to discuss this.

Aglaia was the first to speak: "My parents," she said softly.

"Do they know yet?" He asked.

"If they do, they wouldn't have let me come," she said quietly. "They would have handed executive orders to me and I wouldn't be able to disobey them."

"Then there's still time." Robert said, looking at her. She looked puzzled. "Robbie-"

He shifted so he could look her straight in the eye. "I want to be with you," those were the most honest and sincere words he had ever spoken, apart from 'I love you.' "I want to be with you for the rest of our lives and beyond. I want to marry you." He whispered.

"You already told me this," she replied.

"But I need to tell your parents," she winced.

"Robert-" she began. He shook his head.

"I have to," he insisted. "Before they find out, take you away from me, and I'm unable to see you again. Or maybe… I'd follow you. I'd fight to get you back. And shit, that would cause some serious diplomatic problems."

She scoffed. "To put it mildly. But do you really think you can just ask my father for my hand in marriage?" She sighed. "Honestly… You'll need the approval of-"

"Your father, the Ministerial Council, the Greek parliament, and the rest of your family, possibly including your Danish relatives." He sighed. "I researched it," he admitted.

Aglaia sighed. "My father would decide whether or not to pass it onto the Ministerial Council. But you'll also need the permission of the Greek Orthodox Church, and here in England, the bishops of the Church of England, and more. I'm third-in-line," she reminded him sadly.

"And you'll remain third-in-line," he promised. "Until your brothers marry and have children." He kissed her. "And you'll remain a Greek Orthodox," he assured her. "The children will have to follow my religion but you'll be able to be queen of England and be a Greek princess."

"And if your people won't like me?" She asked.

He looked incredulous at her. People always fell in love with her, and she was asking _that?_

Robert sighed. "I know. My family's a circus freak show. Even Liam admits that. But Aglaia… I can't be with anyone else." He admitted. "I've been with girls before and honestly… It never occurred to me, never crossed my mind-" he shook his head in frustration.

"You've become my whole life, my heart and soul. I can't go on pretending, sneaking away in the middle of the night, acting as if nothing has happened in the morning and waiting a whole day to be with you again. Unless you're overseas and then what?" He ground his teeth. "Wait? Wait for news that your family and our governments or the media has found out and that we'll never be able to see each other again? Is that what you really want?" His eyes flashed.

"Robert," she hissed, placing an arm on his soothingly.

He breathed out. "I'm sorry. I'm still going to ask your father. If I have the decency to ask him to his face, then at least we have a chance. And I'm not going to give up."

Aglaia looked at him for a long time. "Then I'll come with you," she insisted. He nodded. His hand tightened around hers. The engagement ring glittered on her finger. He had proposed just moments before.

* * *

"Still fighting I see," _his_ voice taunted.

"Shut up," Aglaia muttered darkly. "You have no right to be _here."_ "Your Majesty," Rachel appeared behind her.

Aglaia was folding blankets in the playroom. "Yes?"

"Her Majesty the queen of Greece's secretary is here, to discuss the oncoming wedding." Rachel stated.

Aglaia nodded. "Very well, then."

"Oh, and Princess Penelope has given birth to a healthy baby girl."

Aglaia blinked. "We'll I'll be sure to congratulate them on the good news and give my blessings and best wishes to the baby. Thank you, Rachel. Is that all?"

"Yes, your majesty." Rachel left the room.

Aglaia breathed out. Well, this was promising a great deal of drama.


	16. Chapter 16

**To Superdani4Ever:**

 **I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. This was a hard chapter!**

 **And thank you so much! Happy Birthday- late as it is- I'm sorry!**

 **I thought about Cyrus and drunk as he is, I think he's laying a little too idle. After all, he's the one who suggested Veruca marry him again. No, we don't see Liam and Len hanging out with other royals at parties and stuff. Sure, there's Ashok and Gemma who are heirs to wealthy fortunes and Beck who's an aristocrat, and ordinary people like Ophelia and Willow but no. Penelope and Maribel… Alas, who knows? They'll have to smarten up, though. Sadly, it's going to take some time!**

 **I don't think he would have known until somewhat late in their relationship- because she might have forgotten about it- sort of- and yes, he was really relieved. I can't imagine what they would think watching these movies- no doubt they'll be really embarrassed- but thankful there were no intimate moments!**

 **Yes, that's one of the reasons Anastasia is scared stiff to let Aglaia out of her sight and I think she's happy that Len sees another life instead of being trapped in a palace full of endless protocol and pretences.**

 **Oh, Veruca will still try and fight like the devil. And now that she has a new ally, who'll have a few tricks up her sleeve.**

 **As for that scene- please,** _ **don't**_ **expect me to write a real lemon. I don't think I have the stomach for it to be honest. But yes, I can imagine, as Robert's definitely not keen on sharing her with anybody else- that he was over the moon.**

 **Please bear with me on this one. This chapter is a bit slow, but it's definitely got some drama promised for later on. And something else... MORE SINISTER! :o**

* * *

 **Now it is the time of night That the graves, all gaping wide...**

* * *

Marriage. It was something she'd never thought her brother would consider of the utmost importance.

But obviously Alexios had found someone he loved. And wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

The boys were quiet that morning. Selena as cooing and waving her tiny hands about, her big smile spread across her baby face with its soft rosy cheeks.

She cooed and wiggled her little rag doll around. Aglaia finished feeding, burping and changing the boys. She had made sure the boys ate their small servings of sweet potato and carrot purée (which they liked) and formula milk. It was Selena's turn to be fed.

"So how do you know when babies are ready to start eating solids?" Len asked curiously.

"When they're able to hold their heads upright, sit without support and they start to try to stuff their toys and anything into their mouths. Also when they begin to be interested in what you're eating. Then you should consult your doctor." She scooped up some mashed sweet potato and a little carrot purée on top and began teasingly waving it around, like a little fighter jet going this way and that, until Selena's eyes went massive and her mouth dropped in awe and amazement. That was when her mother placed the spoon right in.

Selena blinked and recognising and liking the taste, she moved it around in her mouth a little, before swallowing. She gave a barely-toothed grin at her mother and aunt that made them go _aww_. Selena started waving her hands up and down like, _'Again, again, again!'_ liking this game that was fun and ended up with something tasty in her mouth.

"It's usually somewhere between four and six months that they start eating." Aglaia ate some of her cereal and scooped up another spoonful for the baby. Selena gurgled, cooed and giggled, waving her hands excitedly.

"They still need formula, of course. And we feed them puréed meats, iron-fortified cereal and vegetable and potato purées like these." Aglaia ate her own cereal.

"My brother's getting married," Aglaia said, putting down her spoon, sighing at the thought. "He's invited us- Robert and me, and the babies." She frowned. "I don't know if they're ready but it's their uncle's wedding they want to be there. Of course, if they start… Well… There are numerous heads of state." She winced.

"Don't worry, they'll be fine." Len took a turn spooning some food in the baby's mouth. She cooed and giggled at her aunt, waving and beaming.

"What about you?" She asked. "You do realise I'm leaving you here with Cyrus unless you want to come."

"Nah, that's okay," Len said. "I think there are things I want to do?"

"Jasper, or your designs?"

"Both." Len agreed. Aglaia gave a knowing smile.

"And of course, he's going to be on the lookout," Aglaia turned, smiling as said bodyguard walked into the room. "Oh, Jasper. Would you like some-" she gestured to the food. "No thank you- your majesty." Jasper excused.

"Aglaia." Aglaia smiled. "We're in private, you can call me that plus, you're going to be staying with Len while we're away at my brother's wedding in Greece. He wanted to do it at Sparta, you know but they wouldn't have it." She laughed softly. "Always the Spartan my brother. And now they're having it in Athens. Willow's coming too."

"Willow?" Len sounded confused. Aglaia nodded. "My brother Dimitri invited her." She looked amused. "I think he really, really likes her. He's been with a lot of girls, but this time." She looked bewildered. "I think it's getting serious." She fed Selena another spoonful.

The boys were playing quietly in the playpen Aglaia had set up so she could eat with them nearby and keep an eye on them until their nannies arrived.

"They're quiet today," Aglaia murmured. "I wonder how they'll be when the wedding comes." She grimaced. "How in the world am I supposed to wear a nice dress and sit or stand during a long ceremony while holding three babies?" She asked, nearly groaning. "I'll need help. That they didn't disagree on."

Jasper silently but gratefully thanked God and his lucky stars that the nannies were going to be leaving with the royal couple.

"Right well, I'll get to it," She cheerfully waved to Baby Selena who smiled and cooed back at her. "Bye," she cooed. She waved at the boys.

Jasper followed her out. Robert arrived not long afterwards.

"What's gotten you so riled up?" Aglaia asked, as Selena laughed and glowed at her father's arrival.

Robert looked up with a smile. "Oh, not much. The presents have been sent to the Netherlands. The baby's name has yet to be announced."

"Mother and child are healthy?" Aglaia asked. "How's Penelope taking to her new motherhood role? And Adriaan?"

Robert grimaced. "Seriously?" He cringed. "Well, you never know," Aglaia defended them as Robert grabbed a coffee and toast and sat down.

"Do they love their child?" Robert sighed. "I think they do. But she doesn't have the slightest clue what to do with her baby."

Aglaia's beautiful face darkened. "And Veruca?" She asked in a deadly-silent voice. "Have you tracked her down yet?"

"The last I heard she was in South Africa. Apparently the Queen Mother of Swaziland was enraged at her arrival and kicked her out threatening todeport her. But then she disappeared."

Aglaia's eyes darkened further. "She can't have done this on her own. Someone who didn't think on her plan to get her daughters pregnant out of wedlock can't plan an escape from some of the best intelligence agencies in the world." She frowned. "The South Africans?"

"Are aiding us along with Interpol," Robert assured her. He scooped a spoonful to baby Selena's mouth.

The baby chuckled. Robert gave her a smile and kissed the top of her head. "What if there are more reasons to be concerned than we think?" She asked. "She was in Swaziland. Did she see Maribel?"

"No, apparently. The queen mother refused." Robert stated.

"I think we underestimated her." Aglaia's eyes flashed.

"I think we're still onto her," Robert said steadily.

"DADA!" Selena shouted to the world, arms spread out. They stared at her. She grinned cutely. _"DADA!"_ She said looking at Robert who gaped at her in astonishment. It was the first time she ever said that.

* * *

Alexios was patient when he wanted and needed to be. Right at that moment he was fastening his tie, surveying himself in the mirror.

Alexios was taller than Dimitri and no less handsome.

But there was a hardness in his eyes that couldn't be denied. Unlike Dimitri, although he had had women, he had always limited himself, barely ever looking at one.

No one could be expected to understand his life, to even begin to comprehend his burdens, let alone _share_ them. As a Crown Prince and the Prince of Sparta he was expected- and pressured- to marry and produce an heir. The royal line desperately needed heirs, needed assurances that their monarchy would continue.

But it wasn't fair. How could it be when he was expected to not only have a child but share his entire life with someone? Someone he might not give his whole heart and soul too? Someone who had little or no understanding of what royal life and duty really was like, or what it was like to be married not only to a future king but a soldier. A soldier who fought the most difficult battles, who faced the greatest dangers, who put himself always in the heart of every danger of every struggle, so that his comrades would not only be inspired, but not take the worst of it.

Alexios wasn't born to be a king. He was the son of a son of a younger brother of a king. The younger brother- his grandfather- was the second son of a king. No one could ever imagine that Alexios would take the title of Crown Prince and Prince of Sparta.

He remembered the holiday in Crete, where they all loved. The assassination attempts, his mother's screams, the violent shooting and the screams of the injured, dying and grieving. Alexios' bedroom had been at the top floor of the villa in Crete, sharing it with Dimitri who was three years younger and white-faced.

Alexios had grabbed a lamp- not an ideal weapon- and proceeded to drag Dimitri to the window. He'd shoved the window open and went out, pulling his little brother with him when the traitorous reserve army soldiers began setting fire to the villa while Alexios and Dimitri quickly and quietly ran across the roof and onto a nearby tree.

He could still smell the smoke of the burning villa. Hear the coarse yells and bellows of the soldiers, his mother's pleas and desperate screams. His father had snuck behind with two loyal bodyguards and killed the men and set his mother free. Alexios and Dimitri saw it all, just as they had witnessed the men murder a cook who had been there since they were babies, cooking their meals and sneaking them sweets and cut-offs of pastries behind their parents' backs with winks. They clubbed her with the butt of their rifles and shot her repeatedly until she was dead.

The family had escaped- taking a dingy little ferry back to the mainland where they had believed they would be safe. They were wrong but they had no idea what had happened and they didn't know where and who else on the island was a part of the plot. On the way there, on the Mediterranean, Aglaia had been born. Alexios had been handed his sister just seconds after the birth, and he was silent for a long time, watching the baby sleep. Just thinking how soft, sweet, innocent and vulnerable she was and just how much in danger. He had been so enraged at the thought of someone trying to harm a strand of her hair. After all the reason they burnt the villa down was to kill the boys. They wouldn't spare an innocent baby. He loved her so enormously and was determined to protect her from death. He remembered the first man he killed.

He was thirteen at that time. Separated from his mother and new-born sister, with no way of knowing if they were safe or even still alive.

His father had tried to keep him safe, prevent him from being a child-soldier, but he often snuck out and trained and even fought with the resistance fighters, holding it out until his grandfather came. His father had been furious, but there was nothing he could do.

Alexios ground his teeth as he looked at his reflection in the mirror.

Sometimes he barely saw a man.

But he relaxed his breathing.

"Hey," Someone's soft voice said quietly.

Alexios turned. It was his bride-to-be.

She smiled at him.

"Alexios," her smile faded. Alexios forced a smile. He went to kiss her. He loved her. He never imagined he would ever find someone like her, or could, but he did.

He loved her more than he could know. And of course he understood what Robert and his sister felt for each other.

The fear was dragging her into the mess that now spread from the Henstridges, by association.

* * *

The wedding was coming up soon. Aglaia bit her lip. She wasn't sure about whether she should promote British or honour her original homeland with fond memories and reminders that she was still one of them, even though she fully embraced Britain.

So she decided to go for her own designs.

She had drawn up her own sketches as well as buying British design (and the occasional Greek) and wearing Len's outfits. Clothing was not a mere thing to cover her up or a way of people to look admiringly at her. It carried meaning, messages. None of it was meaningless. Everyone will look at her clothing and interpret it. She was feeling this today. Or that. She had sympathies for this group's cause if she brought some stuff from a group of people that were fundraising for a group of refugees fleeing a civil war. Or a terrible earthquake. Or maybe the designer had certain sympathies for a socio-political movement. Aglaia couldn't risk making a single mistake.

She groaned.

So for her arrival in Greece, she was wearing something made by a member of the Greek community born in Britain. Hopefully that would make everybody happy.

The one she chose was a gorgeous double-breasted navy-blue coat with a rich, darker blue velvet panelling, almost black. It covered her shoulders and was seen at the front of the coat, with cut-outs so that the navy blue material beneath the velvet would always be more dominant. But there were pleats and tucks of folded and sewn velvet and a pleated bottom made of velvet. She liked it very much.

"That's number one," she decided.

To the pre-wedding prayers and church ceremonies, she would wear a burgundy wrap-around knee-length coat with three quarter sleeves, belted with darker maroon sash. She would wear burgundy or maroon gloves, she hadn't decided. Another dress was green, with a coat also with three-quarter sleeves and knee-length and stylish flared asymmetrical lapels.

The church ceremony and reception was undecided.

Aglaia nearly groaned out loud. But her mother-in-law came into the room.

"Hey," she greeted. She frowned. "Are you sure you don't want to come along?"

"I'm sure." Helena assured her. _Definitely_ certain. No way was she walking into any of their territory. They loathed her guts.

"But Cyrus will still be here… Can you-" she hesitated.

"Keep an eye out for him?" Helena scoffed. "He's impotent. Not literally, although, yes actually, he is, partly now that's he's lost one testicle."

Aglaia winced. "Still," she looked uneasy.

"We'll be fine."

"Sure about that?" Robert came into the room. He looked dubious.

Helena scoffed. "Darling, I've been putting up with Cyrus ever since we lost your father." She said quietly.

 _That's what I'm afraid of,_ they both thought simultaneously.

Even Robert looked uneasy. Going to Greece… What would they find when they came back?

Best case scenario? The palace in flames or burnt to ashes on the ground. Or totally trashed because of the remnants of someone's drunken orgy. Worst case scenario? Monarchy destroyed, the throne taken by Cyrus, or the military in a coup.

 _With this family anything is possible,_ Robert admitted.

"It'll be fine," Helena said brightly, oblivious to the looks of unease, doubt, disbelief and maybe even fear on their faces. "Besides, Liam, Len and everyone else is staying."

Robert and Aglaia winced.

Just then Liam walked into the room.

"So you're not coming?" Aglaia had asked him.

"It's fine," Liam assured her. Like his mother, he knew the rest of Aglaia's family- and the cream of European royalty as it turned out- didn't like him, or any of them except Robert, Aglaia and the children who were seen as a symbol of hope for a new future. And Simon. He was definitely not on the invite, he thought. And they would only tolerate him because Aglaia had invited him along.

"Alright then." Aglaia sighed. "Willow's going to be there, you know," she put in, matter-of-factly.

Liam froze. "What?!" His mouth dropped open in astonishment.

"Dimitri invited her." She sighed. She looked amused. "Looks like my brother is getting real serious with a girl at last. Taking her to our brother's wedding, in front of the whole world…" Liam gaped.

No. _No_ _way!_

"In any case," Aglaia said, curious but deciding not to investigate on it, there are things I would like to discuss with you before we take the babies and the nannies to Athens."

Eleanor was nervous. Heck, she was terrified.

The endless parade of jewelled costumes and glittering accessories, luscious fabrics and so forth did nothing to ease her.

Sitting opposite her on the other side of the catwalk, on the front row, was the heartbreakingly gorgeous and glamorous Thai princess.

She was smiling.

Len swallowed.

The Thai princess smiled sweetly as the fashion show went on. She seemed to mock Len, telling her that she would never get to where she was.

But Len was determined.

* * *

The wedding's pre-festivities were about to begin.

Aglaia stepped down onto Athens with a crazy cheer louder than any she had experienced- and _that_ was saying something- from onlookers.

Smiling, Aglaia waved, carrying Baby Will in one arm, with Andrew- squirming as usual- in Nanny Pam's arms and Selena carried by Robert.

The cheers were deafening. This was the first time people had seen the babies in Greece.

Will blinked, but otherwise remained calm. Selena gurgled at the sight of the bright sun.

"Your Majesties, and your royal highnesses," someone she recognised very well from the King's Estate- a butler- bowed and smiled. "Welcome back."

Aglaia smiled wider. "Thank you, Nikko." She sighed. "Well, how are the babies?" She asked. "I think Will needs a change."

She was right, she was about to head off but Nanny Marge appeared out of nowhere and took Will. "The rest of them are fine, your majesty," Nanny Stacy assured her.

Aglaia breathed out.

Being in this palace… Made her feel jumpy, even uneasy.

She remembered being taken out of the King's Estate just before her father's coronation. The walls, the floors and corridors, the rooms and halls, all of them felt icy, forbidding and terrifying to her. She was in alien terrain where many things were covered in shadow. The palace's royal quarters and wing were rarely used by the royal family all of whom did not enjoy being inside the royal palace.

Aglaia closed her eyes. This place held hostile, cold and terrifying memories from her childhood. She never wanted to see this place again.

Shortly after her grandfather died and her father became king, Aglaia's parents set off on a tour. Her brother Alexios had been sent to boarding school at this time, and so was Dimitri- some sort of academy for military or intelligence officers (that explained a lot about them) and Aglaia too young, too coddled by not only her parents but her much older brothers, was left, not at home, but the cold, vast, forbidding palace as hostile as a haunted mansion to her.

The governess' beatings also did not help. Whipping Aglaia, making her stand or sit tied to a chair for hours on end, screamed and verbally abused at and shoved inside a closet stuffed with nails and bits of broken glass at the door and walls or left with no food or drink, Aglaia had no fond memories at all. Of course someone found out: her cousin the Danish Crown Prince. He'd seen a rather nasty bruise swelling on the back of Aglaia's neck, long and slender even for her young age and despite the governess' attempts, unable to be concealed by the high-necked dress she wore. It was him that broke the news. Needless to say the scandal that swept throughout the country and the continent was like wildfire, and her family, the staff and more found excuses to smother her and not let her out of their sights. She had to battle like mad to be allowed to study in England where she would _not_ be recognised.

Needless to say, Aglaia wanted nothing more than to be in the King's Estate- what a home really was- at that moment. Even the palace in London with Cyrus. Anything but here.

Sensing her thoughts, Robert moved forwards and gently touched her arm. She couldn't conceal her loathing of this place from him.

His eyes looked at her in knowing. "Come on," he gently nudged her.

* * *

Cyrus prepared to down another bottle- only to find out it had run out. Scowling, he tossed the decanter to one side, and stalked back to the couch, prepared to sulk.

But something stopped him.

He scowled more.

Veruca was gone. Goodness knows where his wife-turned-ex-wife-turned-wife had gone off to now. The last he had heard was that after his elder idiot of a daughter Penelope had married the insipid brat of a Dutch prince, Maribel, the younger of the two dimwits had married that Prince… Something-or-Other.

Well, actually, he admitted to himself, he _did_ know where his wife was. Just not exactly _precisely_ where or what she was doing there.

Or rather, he knew what she wanted, but how in the world could she possibly get it?

Cyrus snorted. Veruca always depended on people to do her dirty work for her. The first time she didn't was when she went to find that Chinese doctor and obtained the medicine for the girls. And that had been a stupid plan. No, she was bound to have someone to help her.

Cyrus was silent.

He knew Robert had the strong, firm alliance of Aglaia's family in Greece and her Danish relatives to back him up in case anything ever happened to his position on the throne. Plus, everyone liked Robert and his beautiful bride. And their remarkably attractive children who had more brains than Cyrus' girls.

And nobody liked him.

Now Cyrus needed a drink.

But what was this? How long did he just sit there, quietly disappearing in the corner, drinking himself to oblivion? What had it all been for? His plans and schemes, his lost love, his lost son, his estrangement with his only family, his own two daughters- idiots as they were- who were forcibly impregnated by their scheming bitch of a mother and then married off and banished to faraway nations as if they were diseases people couldn't wait to be rid of?

Or maybe… It could be worth something.

After all, he knew Prince… Whatever his name was from Swaziland was not his father's firstborn. However, the Swazi chose their next kings. All the kings were chosen. Not by those people, not with democracy. Cyrus grimaced. No, but some behind the scenes manipulations no doubt. Maribel could be a queen. He then frowned. Or rather, she could be one of many queens. But Maribel could become a future king's mother- and rule as joint head of state. Cyrus had heard that from people whispering about. The ones Robert or the Greeks had sent to keep a close eye on him.

Penelope was closer in the Netherlands, but he knew that in countries like those in Europe, the monarchy was far more… Rigid. Maribel would have the power.

Cyrus smiled, slowly smiled, as he felt a fire rising within him which he thought long-quenched and a plan began to formulate in his mind.

Maribel and Penelope would be queens. And he would regain his throne if it was the last thing he did.

* * *

"Damn it," Len nearly growled.

"What's wrong?" Jasper muttered, leaning forwards.

"I can't do this," Len nearly broke out in a nervous sweat. "I've… Um… Spent too much time partying… Wasted." She nearly laughed out loud as she swallowed the alcohol, letting it burn down her throat. "I'm not like her."

"Yes, you're not like her," Jasper insisted. "Does that mean it's a bad thing?"

"No, but she's clearly had more experience and more time to get things started before I did," Len argued. She shook her head.

Jasper sighed. "Well… Perrine Bruyere received your sketches," Jasper stated. "He's going to make his decision soon."

Len put the glass down hard on the counter. "Right. He's not going to pick me. He's never going to pick me." She got up and started to walk away. Jasper opened his mouth about to argue when Len called back: "No one in their right mind is ever going to pick me."

At the car however, Jasper frowned when he saw someone running.

Someone who looked eager and excited, clutching the brown manila envelope full of Len's sketches. And a smaller white envelope.

Len's eyes bugged as she read the invitation.

"So who is she?" Princess Arinya of Thailand asked Perrine Bruyere.

The French designer was one of her favourites and closest friends.

"Who is who?" Ms. Bruyere asked curiously.

"This… Unnamed talent." Arinya said, tapping her long, immaculately manicured fingernail on the table. She sipped her cocktail. She was dressed glamorously, as usual, in one of her own designs. A red lustrous mini-dress with a gold filigree embroidery motif glittering jewels like garnets and topazes artfully and tastefully placed here and there and on her fuchsia handbag adorned with the faint outline of a peacock. Her shine of long black hair was swept over one shoulder, softly waving with a curl at the end. She had big beautiful brown eyes, warm as coffee, high cheekbones, a tanned complexion and full reddish-pink lips. She was gorgeous and the world knew it.

They also knew she was smart, successful, talented and more.

Like Aglaia's brothers and Aglaia herself she had had to fight to be known as more than just a princess and a pretty face wearing tiaras and living in a palace. She had gotten this far. She wasn't about to let that hard-won prize go.

"You'll be surprised," Perrine replied. The Thai princess tilted her head. "It's Princess Eleanor of the UK."

To say that Arinya was shocked was an understatement. "What?" She sat stunned.

"Princess Eleanor Henstridge." Perrine calmly replied.

Arinya opened her mouth and closed it. She cleared her throat and tried to speak to her shock. "Are you sure?" She managed to do more than squeak.

"I'm certain. And I've just spoke to her. She's coming right now."

"What?" Arinya stood. "You _invited_ her?" She gaped in frank astonishment and something close to outrage.

"What's wrong?" Perrine asked.

Arinya looked aghast. "If any photographer or journalist sees us together," she hissed. "They'll start assuming that I'm a drug addict." She fumed. "Then my sales will fall. My boutiques shut down, my label will be defunct before I know it and even my new fragrance…" She was enraged.

"That party girl," she hissed. "Eleanor Henstridge. Really?" She looked almost disgusted. "If anyone hears a tiny whisper of my name connected with being anywhere near her _vague_ location- that's it!" She nearly snarled.

Perrine looked disturbed. "Arinya, maybe she's not as bad as you think." Arinya narrowed her eyes.

Arinya had had to work hard in order to prove her own worth. Not just to her people but to her father. The granddaughter of the much-loved and adored Thai king, her father his son was so unlike his father they had been compared to Marcus Aurelius (the wise, successful general and philosopher) and his son Commodus (who began to destroy the Roman Empire with his excess, vanity and sadism). His father had divorced his first wife, less than a year, stolen another man's wife who gave birth to several children all the while abusing her too. Arinya had come from that second marriage, the youngest child. When her mother couldn't take it anymore, she fled the country with her children. Her diplomatic passport like Veruca's, was stripped from her and Arinya's older siblings. As was their titles. But- out of spite not the goodness of his own heart or love of her- Arinya's father had kidnapped her and took her back to Thailand. He proceeded to marry and discard another wife and live with numerous women, a number of whom were escorts or something like that. Arinya had had to work hard to prove herself.

On the other hand there was Eleanor Henstridge, loved by her father- even with that paternity test fiasco- never had to worry about money a day in her life (Arinya's father had often neglected her, she had outgrown most of her clothes by the time she began puberty, that was when her nanny started teaching her to make them), and yet she partied like mad, did drugs and basically shamed herself, her country and her family the way Arinya's own father did.

A chord struck home, Arinya felt that. And she felt disgust.

Arinya narrowed her eyes. "Is she doing this out of a hobby she wants to discard a few minutes later and forget about before moving to something else? Is she bored? Not enough drugs for the English princess?" She nearly snapped.

"Arinya," Perrine warned her.

Perrine had taken Arinya under her wing too.

"You're mad if you think she's ever going to work hard enough or even try to." Arinya informed her point-blanc. "I doubt she even knows how to sew. She's a spoiled brat, a drug addict and forgive me, a bitch."

"Arinya," Perrine said sternly. "People change."

Arinya narrowed her eyes. "I thought the same thing about my father once," she said in a dangerously quiet voice. "But forgive me, he's as spoiled and overgrown a brat as this princess. And he's addicted to sex and drugs just like her. He hasn't changed and he's over fifty. Do you really think this young woman can or even wants to?"

"Why don't you just see," Perrine closed her eyes wearily. She knew why Arinya was acting this way.

Arinya sighed.

"We'll see." She stated bluntly.

* * *

Aglaia hated the Royal Palace in Athens.

It had taken a while for her to tell Robert the story but when she did he was undoubtedly horrified.

It didn't make her feel any better.

And she didn't know how to begin to tell him about her other memories. She didn't want to remember _him_.

But somehow, she knew she might not have a choice.

Aglaia got up from the bed.

"I can't sleep," she admitted.

Robert sighed. "Neither can I." He looked at her. "You really hate this place, don't you?"

Aglaia winced. "Sorry. I shouldn't keep you from resting."

"Hey, don't be sorry." He turned round and held her close. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about."

Aglaia shifted and sat up. She got up from the bed and sat down on a sofa, Robert followed her and he pulled her backwards so that she was leaning on him.

She sighed. "There are too many ghosts." She admitted.

Robert knew what she was haunted by. He suddenly wondered what happened to Leonidas Dimitriou. But he didn't want his good mood tainted.

Robert kissed her. "No matter what happened, no matter what comes after," he breathed.

"I'll always love you." She whispered, completing the vow they both made.

Both of them were haunted and disturbed. They had both gone through too much in their lives.

* * *

The royal wedding began as soon as the guests and wedding party arrived.

Alexios stood at the front of the altar with Dimitri by his side. Aglaia watched as Artemisia glided up the aisle on the arm of her father.

She remembered the Greek Orthodox ceremony she and Robert undertook in privacy in order to get their marriage recognised by her faith. The same thing happened here; the same elaborate, beautiful rituals.

Unlike in other Christian weddings, there were no vows. Why? Because Orthodox Christians believed that their presence before Christ through the priest and the congregation signifies that they wish to be joined and therefore God recognised the union as such. It was enough.

Aglaia watched as the Service of Betrothal- the first part of the ceremony, commenced.

The bishop offered prayers up to Heaven on behalf of the couple. The rings were brought out to him on a silver tray on a square of linen. He proceeded to pray for God's blessings on the rings and bless the bride and groom three times for the Father, Son and Holy Spirit first on the groom then the bride using weaving motions that represented their lives entwining henceforth.

Aglaia studied her new sister-in-law intently. She looked nervous. Artemisia was a beautiful dark-haired girl. She was pale, but she drew herself straight and proud. She looked delicate but Aglaia could easily tell she was tough. Aglaia approved of her and thought her good for her brother. And she would welcome this girl into her family as warmly and as accepting as if she had been born into it. The bride and groom outstretched their right hands and the bishop placed their rings on the ring fingers. Not the left hand. In truth Aglaia had worn the same ring used for both the Greek Orthodox and Anglican ceremonies she just moved it from right hand to left. She was sure it confused royal watchers but that was the reason behind her 'wedding ring rotations'.

Aglaia's part in the ceremony began. She exchanged the rings on the bride and groom three times, symbolising the Holy Trinity and the couple's union. The prayer to seal the placement of rings began and she made her way back to her seat.

Much to her relief, the babies- one on her mother's lap, one being sitting on her cousin's knee minding it for her before being moved to her father's, and another with Robert- did not fuss or make the slightest noises. Of course royal watchers would question the wisdom of bringing three babies to such a long service in church but their uncle and new aunt insisted on them being there. No one had a right to dispute that. They appeared more fascinated then anything as to the lady in the long white lace dress and veil, the rings being moved around by their mother and more. Aglaia looked at Robert and they both exchanged wistful glances remembering both ceremonies, one which they did quietly and the other publicly, for their marriage.

God was beseeched to give this couple a long, happy and loving union, before three prayers were read. Aglaia fell silent as she looked at her mother and father, and then at her babies. One day, hopefully- though not for a long time- she would witness each of her children getting married.

She wondered at the joy and pain her parents must have felt. More pain than anything, she thought with an inner grimace as she remembered her parents' reaction and the country's, to her marrying a Henstridge, even the best of a rotten bunch in their eyes. The media had a smear campaign against them for weeks.

Aglaia nearly scowled. This wasn't fair. Who were they to judge? She was sure that there were plenty of people who had affairs outside of their marriage (not that that was any excuse) schemed to get an inheritance (not an excuse again, though) and that there were children who went wild in parties (again). What was so fair about her union being looked down upon? Was it because in Greece and nearly everywhere else it was because you married into the whole family? And therefore they had to be a good one? People had been angry for months in Athens…

Banishing these thoughts from her mind, Aglaia mentally scolded herself for being so petty and selfish when by all means, she should have been rejoicing at her dear, beloved brother's wedding. She watched as the priest took the crowns and blessing the bride and groom placed them on their heads, beseeching, "O Lord our God, crown them with glory and honour," God gave His blessings on the couple in the form of crowns which also signified that the couple would be beginning a new kingdom reigning under God's authority. It fell to Dimitri to exchange the crowns over the couple's heads to seal the union before the readings were carried out. By this time Aglaia was still feeling shameful and berating herself for her selfish resentfulness- perhaps a sign that she wasn't really accepting of her family's authority as a whole- a sin, she knew. She accepted Andrew and began to gently cradle him as his eyes drooped- a good sign, she thought. She knew this was all pushing his patience.

The bride and groom drank from a shared cup of wine before he led them around the altar, as they took their first steps of husband and wife. _Good luck,_ Aglaia thought to her new sister-in-law. She had no idea, surely, what she was getting herself into. She hoped that at least here in Greece, things would be calmer, a lot less hectic, and not so overwhelming. They would be living in their own estate.

After the benediction the couple departed for their horse-drawn carriage ride throughout the city and then to the royal palace for the reception.

 _What's wrong with me?_ Aglaia thought.

Surely she didn't resent her parents' and brothers' interference in her marriage? Or the Ministerial Council? After all, they only wanted to prevent another civil war, no one- no one could blame them for that!

And she shouldn't be so selfish! Her parents and brothers gave without a single thought for themselves towards her! So really, she shouldn't be thinking about herself at all on this day!

Aglaia was getting angry with herself when she entered her quarters to change into something for the evening dinner and ball.

Unpinning the fascinator from her head and placing her clutch down on the table, Aglaia had the dress prepared. A full, floor-length ball gown in creamy white with tiers of simple ruffles and underneath the close-fitting bodice and lace trim. She was about to pick it up when something made her freeze.

On the bed next to the gown sat a rose, sculpted out of cast sugar and tinted with rosewater.

She dropped the dress.

There was no possible way the staff could have come inside with that… Could they? And she was sure as hell that Robert did not leave it there.

Only one person ever did such a thing- a habit of his. And in her mind, she could see the mocking flash of white teeth, the shine of his auburn hair and the gleam in _his_ grey-blue eyes.

It can't be. _He_ was dead. There was no possible way. He couldn't be alive.

She gasped, turning wildly, checking for any secret doors.

"Where are you?" She whispered in terror.


	17. Chapter 17

**To All My Readers: Sorry for the long wait- this marks the next stage of the story, and it was difficult to connect the subplots and make everything flow smoothly! So once again, please forgive me, it was HARD planning all this! But prepare for the next stage of the fic- drama, scandal, revenge, obsession, spookiness, romance and humour.**

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 **To 1st Guest Reviewer: Robert is definitely growing more jealous from now on. Remember, he's not an entirely black-and-white character, and because of that, anyone else who is (like Aglaia's family) are forced to be the same to take drastic measures to keep him in power. He has powerful allies now, allies who really wouldn't take very well to have someone else like Cyrus or even Liam on the throne. He'll show more and more of his dark side as the story progresses.**

 **To Brookeworm3: I AM SO SORRY! I did not mean for this next stage of the story to be so long in coming! But here it is!**

 **To 2nd Guest Reviewer: I have been thinking about that. Maybe in a later chapter, this stage of the plot needs to take-off!**

 **To JulietLovesStories: Thank you for sharing your opinion. And no- remember, Royals itself isn't very accurate. Would a British prince like Liam be so terribly-versed in his own family's histories (Henry the Eighth did not have his wife beheaded because she was fat) nor would the real House of Windsor have gotten away with half the things the Henstridges have- they live in a goldfish bowl. But this is a _blend of truth and fiction,_ so if the Henstridges aren't a real royal house, neither are Aglaia's family. And Robert isn't as golden as he is when he is with his wife and kids.**

 **To Superdani4Ever: I'm so _SOOOORRRRYYY_ to keep you waiting! As I've mentioned above, we are currently entering the next stage of the story. There may be a time gap soon enough when we see the triplets older and so forth, having to deal with this mess, so I hope you enjoy the cute baby moments! **

**Alexios is definitely happy now. It may surprise you to know that he actually has more in common with Robert than anyone could have imagined. The two men are constantly at the edge of dark and light here, and while he detests it, he's willing to do a little evil in order to ensure a greater good. Same with Anastasia. It's sad really, but Aglaia marrying into such a family has propelled them in order to take drastic actions to keep her, her babies and her husband (the only one capable of keeping them safe and their positions and reputations secure and clean). As for Arinya, she has another reason to despise Len- keep reading! Sadly, Aglaia has been abused, but she's grown stronger because of it.**

 **Robert and Alexios are at least two or three steps ahead of everyone- that's what makes them so dangerous. They're also quite vindictive- that's scary.**

* * *

 **Disclaimer : I don't own Royals- that's _E!_**

* * *

 **By hook or by crook this peril too shall be something that we remember**

Aglaia strode out, wearing her ball gown, adorned with a matching _parure_ or a set of jewels, the rose in her hand.

"Who entered our suite of rooms?" She demanded breathlessly.

The manservant blinked. "No one, your majesty." He answered.

"Are you sure?" Her eyes narrowed. "Not even to clean while we were at the ceremony?"

He shook his head. "Certain, your majesty."

Aglaia tried to keep calm.

"What is it?" Robert asked, concerned. Aglaia forced a smile up at him. "Nothing." But they both knew it wasn't that.

Yet now was not the time and place for such things. They proceeded to leave.

In the shadows a very handsome man with auburn hair and grey-blue eyes watched them.

"Robert," Aglaia hissed quietly as the happy couple began to cut their wedding cake.

"Yes?" He turned. "I need to speak with you." She said in an urgent voice.

"What?!" He demanded, alarmed as they spoke further away from the ballroom.

"He was there." She stated. "I know it. I know it because only he ever left something like that on my bed. Nobody else knew who made it or who did it; I questioned the palace staff. Nobody went around putting sugar roses in people's bedrooms today."

Robert tried to breathe normally. This was a joke; a very bad joke.

But damn, it wasn't. You see, a lot of people had been popping back from the dead lately, including him, and he couldn't damn well be sure.

But the thought of his wife's _ex_ \- the guy that nearly cost her, her life before he had even met her… What if that guy had succeeded? Robert demanded to himself. If he had…

And if he was still alive…

The ice in Robert's blood was beyond description.

"Robert I am telling you, I am _NOT_ out of my mind," Aglaia insisted.

Robert stared at her. "I'm not saying that you are," he tried to soothe her. Normally this would have worked- it worked for the twins, it worked for his mother, it worked for Cyrus, it worked for their children. But Aglaia brushed his hand aside easily.

"No one else knows about that." She stated bluntly, turning to face the window.

"Not even the maids that clean your room."

"I cleaned my own room," Aglaia noted dryly. "Even when I was grown. I cleaned and polished my musical instruments, I made my beds and did my laundry, unless I was really busy and I had to pay someone with my own money if I was. No one else knew about those sugar roses. Not even my parents."

Robert then froze. "So why tell me?" He asked, trying to keep the acid from growing in his voice.

If Aglaia noticed it she didn't give any indication.

"He's supposed to be dead." She said bluntly, pacing up and down. "He's supposed to be _dead."_ She repeated as if trying to convince herself.

Whatever feelings Robert had before seeing his wife's reaction was brushed aside.

"Hey," he tried to soothe her. "He's supposed to be dead," she whispered. He pulled her close but could feel her shaking.

"So why is he still alive?" "Shush." He kissed her neck. "He's not alive. I am yours, and you are mine." He murmured into her ear. "He will never come back."

But neither of them could ignore the terrible feeling.

* * *

 _One week later, back in England…_

Liam jolted awake.

For a moment he could have sworn…

 _Liam… Liam…_

Was that… His _name?_

Carefully, very carefully, he got out of his room. Holding his torch aloft, Liam saw nothing.

Then he jumped and nearly gave a yelp. Eleanor squeaked, and Jasper was pushing her behind him, eyes wide and alert as he took in the form of the prince.

"Liam."

"Jasper, Len." Liam said in disbelief. "You… Did you hear something?"

Len frowned. "Yeah. I thought I did."

Jasper frowned. "I don't hear anything."

Liam and Len turned. "It came from that way," Len suggested.

Liam held his torch. "Wait." Jasper insisted. He held out his own torch, his gun at the ready. Liam almost rolled his eyes. The three of them went up behind him.

They passed Helena's bedroom. "What's going on out there?!" A cross-sounding Helena emerged, in her dressing gown, her hair mussed. "What are you three doing? Why are you making that noise?"

"Mum- we're not doing _anything."_ Eleanor insisted. "Liam and I heard something. Or _someone."_

"What?" Helena nearly squeaked. "You heard it too? I hoped- I thought it was you."

Len and Liam shook their heads. "No."

Crouching, the queen mother went up behind the three and crouched behind them.

"What the hell's going on?" Helena demanded. "And how are we supposed to know?" Liam retorted. "Well, one of you is the security expert. Is it a burglar?" She asked.

Jasper shook his head. "Whatever it is…" He muttered.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Cyrus scowled, emerging from his suite. "Can't a Once and Future King get some sleep amidst all this nonsense?"

"Oh, shut up." Helena snapped. "There's a burglar or an assassin in here."

"What?!" Cyrus jumped and paled, even in the dark. "You're joking."

Helena told him to shut up.

They tiptoed on creaking floorboards throughout the palace.

"What's going on?" Robert demanded, opening his bedroom door. "Ask your mother and your _delightful_ siblings." Cyrus rolled his eyes. "There's an assassin in the palace."

"WHAT?!" "SH!" They retaliated. He stared at them. "You've got to be kidding."

"An assassin or a burglar," Jasper admitted. "We don't know."

"Then why are they coming with you?" Robert asked incredulously. Jasper opened his mouth, then turned and stared at the three royals behind him.

"Yeah. What _are_ you doing coming after me?"

They stared at each other.

Robert sighed. "Let me guess: they're afraid of the dark."

"Am not!" Cyrus sniffed. Robert snorted. "Then why aren't you staying in your room? Or better yet, using the underground tunnels to escape?"

Cyrus opened his mouth, then shut it. "We're not terrified," Helena grumbled. "We just want to beat the life out of anyone who thinks he can steal anything that belongs to us- whether it's our jewels or our lives."

"Your jewellery safe is that way," Robert inclined his head in the opposite direction, leaning against the doorframe.

"You do realise that, don't you?"

"What's going on?" Aglaia moaned.

"They think there's an assassin or a burglar," Robert said, shaking his head.

"You're joking." Aglaia moaned. Robert rolled his eyes in response. "I'll get the babies." Robert sighed. "Call the nannies, actually. They might prove useful in this situation." he said, making Jasper and Liam cringe.

"Why don't we turn on the lights and alert the security?" She grumbled. "Call them?" They stared at her, Liam, Helena and Cyrus. Why didn't they think of that?

But Jasper shook his head. "Too risky," he muttered. "Might scare them away."

"Fine." She muttered, they headed out. Then a thump echoed throughout the empty space.

"What's that?" Len hissed, jumping slightly. Jasper pointed his gun in the direction she indicated.

"It sounded like…" Jasper frowned. "Like someone-"

Then footsteps echoed. The ominous sound of footsteps like the footfalls of doom, echoing in ghastly terror in the air all around them, making them freeze.

"I don't hear anything." Robert said stubbornly.

Nobody else (apart from his sleepy wife) were so sure.

They kept on going.

Through the empty corridors.

And then-

BAM! A loud, very annoying, wailing siren roared in the air, making Aglaia instinctively pull Robert back.

Lucky, because nobody else was that close to her. Len stumbled back onto her mother who was surprised and stumbled back against a wall, grabbing the nearest people- the twins- instinctively to pull herself upright. Instead the wall caved in and the three of them fell back through and then the wall closed up behind them.

Jasper began yelling into his walkie-talkie, pounding on the wall (a hidden passageway, obviously) while inside the three of them were experiencing something very different.

Liam sniffed. "Ugh, what's that smell?" He complained.

"Maybe you." Len snarked.

"Oh, shut up." He helped his mother to her feet. "Mum, where does this lead to?"

Helena stared at him. "You're asking me?"

Liam silently cursed himself. "Well, you're the queen, aren't you? Surely you must have wondered a bit in some secret corridors when you're… Wreaking your queenly complaints."

Helena gaped. "What _are_ you, are you my son or a republican?"

"Come _on,_ we don't have time, we need to get back." Len scowled. She headed left.

Aglaia closed her eyes. "Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse," she muttered in Greek.

The security guards had pulled her aside, as gently as they could, while they tried to open up the secret passageway again- how did they do that?

And meanwhile Aglaia was headed to the nurseries to check on the babies. They had begun sleeping through the nights now.

But then something caught her eye:

It was a blue daisy… tied to a bracelet.

Aglaia froze and so did her insides before they dropped into a deep, bottomless pit.

* * *

After wandering for hours, struggling to find a way out, the twins and their mother managed to find a way out.

It was rather embarrassing. But what was more disconcerting, was just how jumpy and pale Aglaia had become.

The triplets were now reaching their first birthday, and her mother was coming over.

For the children's sake, it appeared that Helena and Anastasia were getting along…

For now.

* * *

"Dimitri, you know I don't like it when you're so… Secretive." Anastasia frowned, as she took the offered glass and gave a delicate sip. "I am your mother. I get worried."

Dimitri gave a mechanical smile and settled behind his desk.

"If you're referring to my budding relationship with my dear lovely Miss Willow, then I must state that we are in a rather slow pace," Dimitri said smoothly, masking his annoyance at his mother's… Intrusiveness. No doubt she meant well, but good _grief._ He wondered how Aglaia managed to tolerate it, it would have driven anyone mad.

"On the other hand, if you're referring to my work, I must put in that it's my job to be so secretive." Dimitri stated, rather bluntly, retaking his seat. He eyed his mother from behind his desk. "I've just given my congratulations to Alexios and Artemisia. Another niece or nephew. The family is growing."

"Yes," Anastasia admitted. "But it still does not excuse you from your royal duties, even if it pushes you down the line."

Dimitri scoffed. "So that's why you're here, Mother? To remind me of my royal duties?" He tried to clamp down on the sarcasm.

"No, just to ask for a few favours." His mother replied, taking him completely by surprise.

"A few favours?" He arched an elegant brow. "Which ones?"

"About your sister," she admitted. "And her children."

Dimitri's eye twitched. "You still think they're in danger? Well, officially it's out of my hands, mother. She's British now." Those words left a sour taste on his tongue. "There's nothing more that I can do, without forcing to collaborate with MI6."

Anastasia frowned. "My son, I know you've been doing things behind the scenes for your baby sister and her children. You might have fooled everyone else, but not me. Remember, I'm your mother. I bore and raised the lot of you. I know that you've been secretly looking out for her, even before she was married."

Dimitri breathed out. She got that right. Admittedly, he was pushing his legal boundaries, but ever since Aglaia insisted- _insisted-_ that she would study in England with little security, he had taken it upon himself to look out for her. Which was how he managed to get a wind on King Robert's interest- no, infatuation or obsession would be a better word- for her. A brief but successful military career had all but ensured him entry to one of the world's leading spy agencies, in spite of his royal status- and his rather conspicuous appearance. But he was pretty sure that this was no longer legal.

Dimitri had been the one to find out that Aglaia's first boyfriend had been a secret member of a fanatical neo-Nazi terrorist group. That group had long been a thorn in everyone's sides. He had rooted him out, dug out every little dirty scrap of evidence, and when she had somehow (he gritted his teeth) involved herself with those damned Henstridges, Dimitri had been the one to personally inform their father, mother and brother. The storms that had gone down were far from the smoothest.

"Mother, surely you don't want me to dig up dirt on Robert, my dear brother-in-law," he stated. "No, I want you to dig up dirt on _Cyrus."_ His mother replied.

Dimitri laughed. "There's only so much dirt you can find, that hasn't been swept under the rug, that is." Which Cyrus had done. _Repeatedly._

Like Jeffrey Stewart's fate, for example. And King Simon's body. Oh, and the maids, Violet and Prudence.

"I want more," his mother leaned forwards, blue-grey eyes glinting dangerously. "You know he's going to try to take back the throne. You don't have to be a spy. And your sister- as noble as she was- has earned the ire of his wife and made a deadly enemy for herself."

"I know." Dimitri said, point-blanc. "I know that Veruca, former duchess of Essex is in Swaziland at the current moment, and she's allied herself with her daughter's mother-in-law. I also know, that you were the one who ordered that farce on the triplets' Christening. Care to explain yourself, Mother?"

Anastasia leaned back. "I did what I had to."

"And _I_ did what I could," he shot back. "To cut off any loose ends and sweep up your trails. Against my better judgement. Do you know how crazy and rotten it was? To stage a dangerous fake invasion or coup during your grandchildren's Christening celebrations? How typically _Henstridge_ that sounds like?"

"Maybe that was because it was Helena's idea in the first place." Anastasia retorted, taking him by surprise.

"So you've allied with her," he said calmly. "And the children, your sister and brother-in-law as well as the numerous guests were never in any real danger." She said calmly.

"You targeted Cyrus." He stated. Anastasia inclined her head. "It was a pity I couldn't get Veruca and the old sot was passed out on the concrete."

"Did you do this to frame him?" He asked, suspiciously. "Because it doesn't sound like him." Cyrus was sneaky and ridiculous, but not so blatantly… What? Obvious? Outrageous?

"We did it to ensure our children and grandchildren are safe and alive." Anastasia said with narrowed eyes. "Judge me as you like, Dimitri. You haven't the slightest idea of what I'd do for you."

Dimitri sighed, leaning back against his chair. He stifled a groan.

"And I suppose you want to implicate Liam too?" He challenged. "And how long before you turn against your new ally Helena?"

The Henstridge rot had already begun to infect them.

Anastasia sighed. "I just want you and your siblings and their children safe. Is that too much to ask?" She demanded.

"You can't just sweep away any _potential_ threats." Dimitri retorted. "They could be hit by a bus. Or a chandelier might fall on top of their heads. What's your solution to that?"

Anastasia looked grim. "Just get rid of Cyrus and find Veruca. Shouldn't be too hard- the witch is in Africa, trying to seat her daughter on another throne. But she'll have her revenge on your sister, no doubt. Sooner rather than later, as she perceives Aglaia was the one whose idea it was to exile and disinherit her branch of the family."

That was because she _was._ Often Dimitri found himself grinding his teeth at how far and how much his sister was willing to go for the Henstridges' sake. Why should they care if their monarchy fell in the first place? Why the heck did she have to marry that ridiculous- he stopped himself from scowling.

"Alexios and Artemisia are expecting their first child," Dimitri reminded. "The Greek line of succession will be secure soon enough. I would have preferred it if Aglaia had married someone else, even the prince of another country, but there's nothing we can do now. Especially as he's the father of your three grandchildren who are still infants and yet to come of age. They'll be absolutely vulnerable without him." Bloody Metaxas, for one, showed no ethics in trying to wipe them out, along with their mother.

"Can you seriously promise me your sister's chances of surviving to old age will be high, living in a place such as that?" His mother challenged. "They already got in past security. They'll get to her soon enough."

Dimitri's eyes flashed. "Not if I can help it."

"Then make sure it doesn't happen. I need your help."

 _God help me,_ Dimitri thought sullenly. But his fear and concern over his little sister and her children, as well as his filial obedience towards his mother won out over his sanity and sense of preservation. Scowling, he listened to her plan.

* * *

Princess Arinya of Thailand was decked out chicly in a dark blue A-line dress with silver-white diamond patterns and Thai motifs- part modern and part traditional- with short sleeves which she accessorised with a pair of delicate sapphire and diamond-droplet ear pendants, a diamond bracelet and silver clutch. Her makeup was minimal: silvery-blue eyeshadow and glittery lip gloss.

She stunned the crowd and impressed them with her natural talent.

Only moments later, Eleanor Henstridge appeared out of nowhere, greeting the paparazzi all smiles and glamour, whereas Arinya struggled to restrain a scowl.

"Damn her," she muttered in Thai. Her personal assistant nodded. "Why can't she just stay happy wasted and with her private parts open for the world to see? Why did she have to come _now?"_

 _Now_ was the critical moment. She wouldn't let Eleanor Henstridge take anything away from her. Not _again._

Not after last time.

Arinya still hadn't forgotten. She hadn't forgiven. She never did.

She would repay Eleanor Henstridge with the same coin.

Aglaia looked elegant and beautiful, as always. But now even more beautiful than ever before. Their first anniversary. And Robert had planned something very special- and quiet.

Far away from the press and media. Damn them all, but they were very intrusive and it was becoming increasingly difficult. It was no secret, there was drama in their lives, but while he looked for the thrill when he was younger, he now realised never to take the luxury of a boring existence for granted.

A pity their lives could never be that.

She'd hurried for the latest royal engagement, and had her hair and makeup done- though she preferred very minimal makeup, if any at all. Donning a gown the colour of midnight, after kissing the babies goodnight, Aglaia had discovered that there was no royal engagement: just an anniversary date.

Robert flashed her a dazzling smile as he handed her a flute of champagne. She took it with a heart-breaking smile of her own and they toasted.

"So, what prompted this?" She looked part-amused, part-surprised.

Robert arched an eyebrow. "Are you surprised that I can play the doting husband? Especially on our wedding anniversary?"

Aglaia looked at him in a way that Robert cherished infinitely more than the worshipful, adoring looks the masses sent his way, as prince and king.

"No, darling." She said softly. "You're the most wonderful, kindest, most amazing person in the whole wide world, and I loved you with all my heart. It's still quite surprising for me, because a few years back, I never thought I would be this lucky. Good grief, I put aside all thoughts of happiness from my mind and focused on doing good deeds as my only means of contentment."

Robert exhaled. "That sounds… Grim. Care to share what happened?"

Aglaia raised an eyebrow. "You know what happened."

"Yes, but…" He paused. "Did you despair so easily? What prompted you to go to England?"

Aglaia was silent and he wondered if he had pressed too far. After all, this was supposed to be a happy occasion.

"There was a wedding," she said softly. "In Corfu, the Achilleion Palace. I was never that lucky with men, Robert. I'm not saying that they cheated on me, and not all of them mistreated me, but in time, I decided it was best if I were to stay single for the rest of my life." She paused, then shook her head. "Guess who changed my mind."

Robert smirked. "And weren't we glad?" He asked, teasingly. "But really," he grew serious. "Who were these men?"

Robert had a good reason for asking Aglaia about this. First off, she'd been having nightmares, though she did her utmost best to hide it. Nightmares, and she'd been jumpy ever since they arrived in the royal palace in Athens- which she actually despised.

Aglaia's explanation was that she had been left there when her parents went for a month overseas on an extended official trip. Quite frankly, that was when she was first abused by that damned nanny of hers.

Robert didn't come to the marriage completely ignorant of Aglaia's background in relationships. As a matter of fact, he knew she had more than one ex. Leonidas Dimitriou was just the easiest one to get out of the picture.

There were others. And despite the fact that he loathed nothing more than to spoil an evening that was exclusively theirs to celebrate together… He had to know.

She took a sip and swirled the champagne around in the flute. "Months before the wedding- one of my family's friends- I had broken off a relationship. There was a man who appeared to love me- or rather, he was more obsessed- to the point of ticking off my security." She twirled a small canapé between her fingers.

"I broke up with Leonidas Dimitriou- that naval captain- because he had become too controlling," she shook her head. "Although anyone can understand jealousy, he was… Beyond paranoid. And then this man comes along." Her beautiful ocean eyes darkened. "Auburn hair. Gorgeous shade, not dyed, or traditional ginger like you'd expect, but rich red-brown. Dark blue eyes." She laughed harshly. "Ultimately it was his sweet nature that won me out. I learned to be infinitely more sceptical after that."

"What did he do?" Robert asked softly. He knew part of the answer of course, but….

She looked disturbed. Actually, Aglaia looked haunted. Her eyes were far older than her form, and it wasn't like her at all.

"He was a member of a nationalist movement- a militaristic, extremist far-right movement. Some call them Nazis. He kept his involvement a secret, because he knew we would never approve, but kept his relationship with me at the same time." Aglaia paused.

The truth was that Robert could never know how close she came to breaking up with him. When she found out his… Doings, and his old girlfriend (Liam and Robert? Seriously?), Aglaia was prepared to leave him.

But she didn't. This one was different. She loved him.

"He kept a good charade. He genuinely wanted this relationship to work. He didn't give up on the party though. Or his fanaticism, though he hid it very well from me. So, it was a double-life, a house of lies. "The only reason I _ever_ found out was because of Dimitri. He showed me everything. All the evidence- first there wasn't much. He was very careful."

Of _course._ It was Aglaia's second brother, the most unpredictable and one of the most dangerous men Robert had ever encountered, that found out. He'd been in and around Europe enough to know that, while he didn't meet Aglaia until she came to England, Dimitri's name was whispered nearly everywhere. People often raved on about how good-looking the three children of the Greek king were, their accomplishments and so forth, but despite his handsomeness, Dimitri was known for something else. Nobody actually said what it was, but Robert vaguely remembered being in Monaco years before his crash, and seeing a group of people; some minor royals, aristocrats and billionaires' children, whispering about Prince Dimitri and something very suspicious. There were no scandals attached to the names of King Konstantinos' children, but there were rumours, whispers about the second son of the king. Whispers people didn't even dare to repeat out loud.

Robert now knew that Dimitri worked for Greece's intelligence agency- he was far too closely affiliated with them than any royal prince should be.

"I didn't believe it at first. Besides the evidence wasn't… Much. But Dimitri had enough evidence at some point, that it was undeniable. I confronted him."

Her eyes darkened.

"I confronted him and he tried to lie. Then he couldn't deny it anymore." She shook her head. "It was over at that point. I was a princess of Greece, but he also lied to me and lived a terrible life without anyone else knowing. He didn't take the breakup so well. Months later, someone shot at me." Robert stiffened with alarm. "I managed to dodge, and they were arrested, tried and imprisoned. They testified against him and it looked like he had taken his own life."

Aglaia paused. Robert instantaneously grabbed her hand. "I'm sorry I ever asked." He said quietly. "But he's dead and he's never coming back. And if he is, I'll kill him."

He certainly managed to startle her out of it. Soon, he pulled her for a dance and the whole thing was forgotten.

But not by Robert. He remembered. He also remembered something else…

* * *

 _Years earlier…_

Robert strode through the halls of the palace his temper not just rising but boiling like magma about to burst through.

"Where is she?" He demanded as soon as he burst into his mother's office and found it vacant. The staff immediately stood and stammered.

"I need to speak with the queen," he said through gritted teeth.

They all looked at each other. "Your…your majesty, the queen is-" Robert's eyes flashed. Spencer looked taken aback. He had never seen Robert like this. Never.

"Now, if you _please!"_ Robert nearly snarled. Temper now boiling more dangerously than ever on a high point, the staff nearly floundered in the face of their normally pleasant king. They nearly wondered if he was possessed.

Robert was possessed- by a fury. He resisted the powerful urge to hurl a table to one side. "Your majesty, I'm sorry, the queen is-"

"WHAT?!" Robert all but demanded. "On a ride? At a function? Sneaking off to the damned shed?!" He shouted. Taking several deep breaths, he struggled to compose himself as the aide went pale and took several steps back. The king had never been so frightening.

Robert gritted his teeth. "I'm sorry. But this is an emergency." To him. He took another deep breath. "If the Queen Helena is not here in twenty minutes-"

"The atmosphere is as tense as crocodile confronted with a chicken, what have I missed?" Helena asked, walking in.

Robert turned on her in an instant. "How could you?" He all but demanded. Helena froze on the spot at her son's unusual… Well, she didn't know what to call it.

"I'm sorry, dear, how could I what?" She asked, confused.

Robert's rage finally showed through on its full force on his face. Helena looked taken aback and took an involuntary step back.

"How could you do this?" He snarled, dangerously like a beast. "You did this, didn't you?"

"Did- what?" Helena demanded, trying desperately to recover her nerve and remain in control of the situation.

"This." Robert held up an open envelope with a letter inside, brandishing it, furiously.

"I- I don't know what this is about-" Helena began.

"Don't _lie_ to me, Mother!" Robert shouted. "I thought she would be here when I got back," he hissed. "You lured me away from the palace, in the guise of an _official duty,_ when as it turns out you removed the woman I love from _England_ as if she was some damned criminal!" His voice rose louder in volume. "You don't think I didn't know? While you did whatever with God-knows-who, at who-knows-where, you were willing to, lure me on the pretext of using my duties, and then chase her away!" He glared heatedly at his mother. "How could you? What is it this time? You _knew_ I had proposed to her," his rage increased. Helena opened her mouth, about to deny everything he had just accused her of. "You've been trailing me, haven't you? Using my own security against me!"

"I- well, you're the king," Helena spluttered. "What if- what if you get hurt? What if your girl turns out-"

"My _girl,_ as you so kindly call her, just so happens to be the daughter of the king of Greece," Robert shot back. "Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Greece and Denmark and titular Princess of Crete. I bet you didn't know _that,_ did you mother?"

Helena looked… Stunned to say the least. "No, Robert, I didn't-"

"Then _tell_ me you didn't do this," he insisted, taking a step forwards. "Because I'm about to contact the king and queen of Greece, and the king of Denmark, to ask for her hand in marriage." He glared at her. "And the Privy Council," he added as an afterthought.

"You're… Going to marry her?" Helena asked aghast. "Robert… I swear, I didn't know-"

"Even if she wasn't some princess," he interrupted. "Do you think I'd _care?"_ He looked anguished, even. "Do you think I'd give a _damn?"_ He shook his head and laughed harshly. "She's the love of my life. And I couldn't care _less_ what people would say about this!" He shoved the doors out of his way and strode away.

* * *

 _Present day, Swaziland…_

"Right, Mum." For some reason Maribel didn't look that happy to see her mother, standing there with her mother-in-law.

Maribel was dressed in leopard prints and gold hoop earrings. Her sense of style hadn't gotten less crazy but more… Stylish, her mother supposed. More flair to it. And she eyed her mother with something like suspicion.

"Mum, I…" Maribel scowled. "What are you, um, doing here again?"

Her new husband stood lounged right next to her with his feet sticking up.

Veruca looked at her incredulously. Maribel looked… Disgruntled to say the least.

She opened her mouth and closed it, looking at the mother-in-law of her daughter to at least smooth things out. Veruca's son-in-law looked… Bored.

"We have a plan." The Swazi queen announced. "To put you in the line of succession ahead of your many brothers."

"Wh-" Shabangu stared up at his mother. "You _serious?"_ He asked incredulously.

She glared at him through icy narrowed eyes. "Shabangu," she said sternly. "Need I remind you how many brothers and sisters you have? Right now, nearly two-hundred-and-fifty." _Well, that's expected but it's going to present some problems,_ Veruca thought.

"Out of all of them, the sons from your father's first two wives must be discounted because their mothers were ritual wives. Your father's fourth wife has only daughters, his fifth, sixth and seventh wife all have sons, but one is mentally retarded, another is a hopeless coward who doesn't even have the guts to speak out in public preferring to, literally, run and hide, another has run away from the royal compound with his mother and the rest of his full siblings because apparently, he wants to live a _normal_ life." She all but sneered it. "The rest of your father's sons are too young and leaving aside the sons… The mothers. Your father's first two wives are barred from being _Indlovukati_ or Queen Mother, his sixth has run away, the seventh is appalling at grammar and law-making, and the rest of them are barely out of school with toddlers and babies to look after. How many candidates does that leave?" She asked, acidly.

"Um… You?" Shabangu said, hesitantly. "And… _Me?"_

"Precisely." His mother's eyes narrowed dangerously at him. "Your grandmother kept a strict eye on me and the rest of your father's wives to make sure we all keep in a uniform line and _she_ stays in power, but she was just another _Inkhosikati_ too. One of many, many wives. You know what your grandmother did? Once your grandfather- God rest his soul- lay dying she got everybody to recognise your father as the next heir and persuade the late king. But somebody else became _Indlovukati_. Somebody else was appointed to rule as regent until your father came of age. And she beat her. She beat back the bitch." Her dark eyes flared. "And took her place."

"Shabangu," she hissed. "Out of all of them, wives and sons, queens and princes, only you and I are the most competent. But the Queen Mother refuses to recognise that. She wants to remain in power until she dies." Her eyes narrowed.

"Your father… Rumours are going round that he is getting sick. That he has cancer." Shabangu and Maribel stared at her.

"Now is the time. We must gather supporters. Your stupidity in Britain-" she scowled. "And this woman's-" her scowl turned towards Veruca's. "May have cost us some drawbacks. But if we fix this _immediately_ , then you will rule as king."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Shabangu held up his hands. "Back up." He looked straight at his mother. "You want me… To be king?" He looked at her like, _Damn, Mother that is the dumbest thing you have ever said._

"Who else?" His mother hissed. "The rest of them scheme as much if not more than we do. Now is the time to strike. You already have at least one child in the way. If it's a boy, we can say that it's the king's first grandson. The future king." Maribel stared at her rounded belly. "If it's a girl, it's still pretty impressive. None of the others have managed to secure the line of succession onto the next generation. And although your wife's been disowned, she comes from a very influential family."

"Somehow, I don't think that Robert and his wife are going to back us up," Veruca said, tentatively.

"Does it matter?" The queen shot back. "It's politics. He's still got a baby. An heir. And he's going to have many more. He's got me. And discounting your stupidity in Britain, your grades aren't as bad as many of your siblings," she said in satisfaction. "We just have to fix your mistakes. Make you look repentant over your indiscreet sins that nearly endangered us diplomatically-" she glared at Veruca and made it clear whom she still blamed "-and clever. Dutiful, humble and brilliant. Your wife too. Keep her healthy and safe, even after the baby comes. If it's not a boy, make some more babies. You can only have one wife at this stage and I've already promised her mother-" she scowled again at Veruca. "That her daughter will someday be _Indlovukati_. Now get going. You have to do exactly as I say. You too." She fixed her steely gaze at the former duchess.

"And just what are we going to do, may I ask?" Veruca snapped, regaining some of her nerve.

The queen smiled. "You'll see." She stated.

* * *

 _Present day, Isle of Wight…_

Aglaia was with her babies again. The three of them had already practiced standing upright and were now carefully taking baby steps. Robert had been there when they first began walking and both parents were ecstatic.

The babies were laid out on a soft blanket, which itself was on top of a picnic blanket, their favourite toys before them. They were in the beach where their mother thought this would do them a world of good.

Security monitored the beach tightly. She knew they wouldn't be able to stop every photographer, but she made a deal: one guy would videotape everything up close, everyone else had to leave the family in peace. This was a family holiday.

Robert was grasping Will's hand. Her eldest boy had already started standing well enough, but the sand beneath the blanket was uneven. Andrew was frustrated, huffing and puffing but Selena watched everything calmly around her, her green eyes taking in the sea, the beach, her parents and brothers- everything.

The triplets' first birthday was tomorrow, and their parents were reluctant to share the celebrations with the world. It wasn't that they didn't want to, but they were afraid for the babies' safety.

"This is what it means to be a royal," Robert admitted. They still hadn't found anything in regards to the attack on the babies' Christening celebrations. It still felt phony to the security. He looked at her, smiling sadly. "We've got to take care."

Aglaia looked down. "We have everything to lose now." Selena was cooing, gazing uncomprehendingly at her father. Robert looked at Aglaia for a long time.

"I love you, you know that?" He asked softly. "You and the children are my whole universe. I'm not sure what I'll do if anything happens to any of you." His eyes were dark and haunted.

"But not three years into our marriage, yet all this has happened." He stared out into the distance. "I'd kill and die for you. The four of you."

Aglaia was silent, and she felt the same way. She wasn't stupid or deluded. She knew he already had killed someone: Ted Pryce. Possibly more. Maybe it was the right thing, or not, but she didn't care. She loved him. She loved him so utterly and so deeply, she would give up anything and everything for him. Everything she had, even her own life. Him and their children.

But life was not a fairytale. It was only in romances and songs. She, Robert and their children were an island amidst a raging, violent ocean in a storm. The only safe place in this world.

"Promise me something," she whispered. Robert looked at her.

"What?" He asked, confused.

"Promise me that if someone or something comes for me… You'll make sure the children are safe and protected. No matter what happens, they must go on. They must make this world a better place, for themselves, for their children and for our people. Keep them away from all the insanity in the world. Even if it means they won't sit on a throne. Don't let them fight on anyone's behalf. Even ours." She looked at him.

Robert stared at her. "What?"

"You don't have to say anything now," Aglaia reminded him. Then she remembered a flash of auburn hair and blue-grey eyes. "But if anything happens to me… Don't kill anyone for it. Not if it means that someone will want to kill our children to pay us back."

The name Henstridge already had too many enemies. By _far._

And unfortunately, their children inherited the mantle. Robert gazed out at the sea. He could spot some boats out there. What would happen, he wondered, if they were to abandon everything, leave the throne to Liam, or Cyrus, and take their children and leave, leave all this, this insanity, this world of treachery, insanity, debauchery and greed behind? Go far, far away?

But it was a dream, Robert thought. A wonderful dream, he would never wish to wake up from. Not a good dream, though, for the king of Britain.

When Aglaia returned to where they were staying, she dropped the towels she had been carrying. There it was. On her bed. A sugar rose, like he used to give her.

Aglaia shook her head. "Robert, I am _not_ losing my mind. This rose-" she jabbed a finger in the sugar rose's direction. "Only one person had a habit of giving that to me, and inscribing my monogram underneath it." That was what she had found. "And leaving it inside my bedroom for me to find!" She threw her hands up in the air. "It was a secret. Not many people knew about it, so unless _he_ told someone then…" She stopped pacing and tried to breathe normally, through her part-panic-attack. Here it was again.

First in Athens, now here. It appeared that whoever did this… Had followed them to London.

"I _know_ you're not, Aglaia." Robert said firmly, but gently. "But stressing out about this, isn't going to help either." _Not if I could do anything about it,_ he thought to himself. He embraced her, holding her close, Aglaia leaning against him.

"My past is an open book in this matter," Aglaia murmured. "But if he's back and he wants to, he could destroy anything that we already have. Our life together, our country, our family…"

 _That would never happen,_ Robert swore as he held her tighter against him.

"He's going to come for us," Aglaia whispered. "He's back, I know it."

No, Robert thought. If he was back, then Robert planned to kill him. He would kill anyone who stood between him and his wife and their children.

Leonidas Dimitriou already paid the price. He wasn't dead, but let's just say, Robert made sure the bastard was nowhere to be found. Deployed currently in the Middle East, after tweaking a bit on his and Alexios' and Dimitri's behalf, he would know if Dimitriou ever set foot anywhere near Britain or his wife ever again.

But this man… Robert did not know how to deal with him.

Not one bit. And he did not like it.

"Aglaia," he began. But someone interrupted. A knock on the door, threatened to plunge Robert into intense frustration.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, your majesty. But there's someone here to see you."

And here Robert thought he could have a break and just be with his family. Well, a king never takes a break.

He sighed, concealing his frustration. "Alright, I'm on my way out."

He kissed Aglaia and looked her in the eye. "I swore I would never let you come to any harm." He said slowly and clearly. "I never break a promise."

* * *

Robert stopped when he saw Alexios.

He hadn't been expecting his brother-in-law. Alexios turned from the wide window.

"Robert." He said cordially.

"Alexios." Robert spoke. "I wasn't expecting you."

"No, and I made a point of making sure neither my sister nor anyone else knows that I am here, just yet." He said steadily. "There are some things we have to discuss."

"I'm listening." Robert came closer.

"Firstly, the general elections are being held in Athens very soon- it's always been an unstable time for us." His eyes darkened. "The elections the year Aglaia was born resulted in a coup- and a civil war. That is why I can only come now. I might not have an opportunity to warn you next time."

"Warn me?" Robert asked. "Of what?"

Alexios looked around. No one was there but he was taking no chances.

"Veruca- your uncle's wayward wife," he began. "She's scheming with one of the king's wives- Prince Shabangu's own mother- to put him and her daughter on Swaziland's throne. She doesn't dare go to Europe- but I do know she's made attempts to contact Penelope. She's betting on that. But she's hell-bent on revenge." His eyes flashed. "I don't know why, but it's not on you. It's on your wife."

Robert cursed. "S***," he swore. "I knew it."

"Why is she so hell-bent on making Aglaia pay?" Alexios asked, in a dangerous voice.

"Because Aglaia pronounced the sentence on her." Robert looked at him. His dark-blue eyes were flashing. "Before any of us could say a single word, she exercised her rights as my consort, and she was the one who decided to make it public at once before it was leaked to the press. She also insisted we strip Veruca of her titles and right and to take legal action, like she was an ordinary criminal."

"Confound it all," Alexios muttered. "That does sound like Aglaia, doesn't it? No doubt she did it so you wouldn't pronounce the sentence- or any of your family. And to preserve the reputation of your family." He nodded grudgingly. "Though that admittedly was smart of her, it's earned her Veruca as a nemesis."

"What's Veruca planning for Aglaia?" Robert nearly demanded. "What's she planning to do?"

"Nothing yet. But no doubt she'll be in a powerful position, once her daughter's husband- if their plans succeed- takes the throne of Swaziland." Alexios said grimly. "Unfortunately, we have no solid evidence of treason- that is, them trying to supplant the king, the queen mother and any of the other royal princes and _their_ mothers. But Swaziland is one of the world's last remaining absolute monarchies and their king has absolute authority on everything- and his mother too. So, if your cousin's husband takes the throne, and his mother, allied with Veruca, becomes the new queen mother-"

Robert breathed heavily. "They'll have an entire country at their disposal."

"Not only that." Alexios stepped closer. "I'm also quite sure that there's someone in the palace- your palace. Someone who has a right on your throne and the throne that will rightfully pass to your son."

Robert didn't have to blink. "Cyrus."

"He's more dangerous than you can possibly imagine." His brother-in-law said, steadily. "He's a crowned king. And like in our country, monarchs in yours don't abdicate. Cyrus was deposed. And a deposed king is still, _technically,_ a king, though he has no kingdom."

"Cyrus will never take back the throne." Robert said. "Not now. Not ever."

"Are you sure?" Alexios said, point-blanc. "I've read your history, I know of the Wars of the Roses, or rather, as they were known back then, the Cousins' War. Edward of York took the throne from Henry VI and his wife Margaret of Anjou. They went into exile, but later, they took it back, only for Edward to take it from them. Margaret spent the rest of her days locked in a tower, and Edward ordered Henry to be murdered. Their son was already dead. When Edward died- and he died young- his son was still a _boy-_ and he had _two_ of those. You know the story of the Princes in the Tower. Some said it was their uncle."

"Richard." Robert found himself saying. "But it's more likely that Henry VII and his mother Margaret Beaufort killed the boys instead."

"Maybe, but Richard was responsible for putting them in that tower in the first place. You have two boys- and a girl. But at least neither Henry nor Richard tried to kill Elizabeth of York- they settled for fighting over her as a piece of meat instead- a prize. Nowadays, girls have more claim to the throne. Your daughter and your sons are _exceptionally_ vulnerable when they are young."

"I know that," Robert interjected, harshly.

"You have two possible claimants to the throne- one of whom is already been crowned and anointed as king. He's been sworn in- he made the vow. So have you."

" _And so, I declare that my whole life, whether it be long or short, shall be devoted to your service."_ Robert remembered.

"Cyrus has sworn the same thing. There's no stepping down from the British throne once you're anointed, sworn in and the crown is placed on your head."

"Cyrus was-" Robert began hotly.

"Cyrus was _deposed."_ Alexios repeated. "If he had abdicated, it would have been official. He would have relinquished his rights _officially_ and _literally-_ as king. But no king of Britain can ever abdicate if they have already been crowned. So, he's still technically a king, and he still technically has a right to win it back. Which makes Veruca- his official consort- a claimant for your wife's title."

Robert had now turned and was gripping a table-top tightly.

"You could be framed for something, exposed for something you'd rather not. Have scandal attached to your name- personally. And you'd be dishonoured, disgraced and considered worse than dead in the eyes of everyone- including all your allies. That includes us." He warned. "Or you could be killed. Cyrus has killed before. He has you killed, your son is too young to take the throne. There could be a regency- or Cyrus is the one to take the throne- the old king, because the younger king is much too young and must grow up first."

"There's still Aglaia." Robert said angrily. "If anything happens to me, she will be regent. Not bloody Cyrus, not my mother, not even Liam and Eleanor."

"And what makes you think that nothing will happen to _her?"_ Alexios hissed. "Do you think that the British government- or Cyrus will allow the children to be raised in safety in Greece unless they relinquish their rights to your throne? And what will happen once they're alone, cooped up and lonely in that vast gilded cage you call a palace? Under his and Veruca's watch. Are you going to rely on your younger siblings to save and look after them? How about your mother and her boyfriend?"

Robert was silent. He knew Alexios was right. His wife and his children were in more danger than he could have imagined.

"You also have another pretender." He stared at Alexios.

"How much do you trust your brother?"

He stared. "What?"

"It's a hateful thing," he began. "But your brother was nearly sworn in as Britain's king. Everyone in Europe and beyond predicted that he would fail, but he didn't do such a bad job. Then he was proven your father's actual, legitimate son. How's he coping, being back under your shadow- and now in your children's shadow."

Robert- predictably- reacted quite badly to this. _"Liam_ would never do a quarter of the things Cyrus does." He snarled.

"No," Alexios agreed. "But he's hot-headed, impulsive and rash to say the least. And don't tell me he's never been jealous of you in his entire life."

"Hasn't Dimitri ever been jealous of you?" Robert asked coolly.

"Dimitri was the playboy younger brother, but instead of indulging all his life, it gave him a reason to find a purpose for his life." Alexios said, firmly. "You might not like it, but it was only after you 'died' that Liam found a place and truly carved a role for himself in the world. Before that he was the playboy younger brother. What about now? What does he have now that you're the king and your son is first-in-line? He's been relegated to fourth-in-line now that you have three children. What else does he have?"

Robert didn't answer. "He's my _brother."_ He muttered.

"Who's never known another existence other than being your brother, until your accident." He stepped closer. "Did you know your brother is in love with your wife?"

Robert's head whirled back at him at top speed. "What?"

"Forgive me," Alexios said. "I'm normally quite used to saying things the Laconic way- particularly with Laconic Humour, but this isn't so amusing anymore, not to Dimitri. And it never was with me. But what else do you call someone who stares entranced at a beautiful, awe-inspiring woman for extended periods of time?"

"That," he spat. "Is a lie."

"Is it?" The Greek heir narrowed his eyes. "I'm sure you've seen it. Are you so blind? Even Cyrus noticed it."

Robert took a step back.

The two of them said nothing for a long time.

Then the prince spoke. "You knew, didn't you? You've seen it. We all have."

Robert could barely speak. "Who else knows?"

"Not many. Thankfully, the tabloids have been unusually slow." A pause. "Even Aglaia has absolutely no idea. Will Liam try to make a move? I don't know. He's still single, isn't he?"

Robert could barely breathe. _No._

The last time, Aglaia and their children were his whole life, she was his truest and most passionate love, his closest companion and confidante. Kathryn was one thing but Aglaia…

Never. Not ever. Not in an eternity. Not in a billion years. He would never allow it. Never.

"You- the king. You have everything, including the happy family, the beautiful wife, the happy, healthy children. What does Liam have left? Dimitri's seen it, my parents have seen it. Don't tell me you haven't, you're quite sharp." He stepped closer.

"Liam will make a move towards Aglaia." He said slowly. "He will fall even more in love with her- as so many have done. You may be the one to win her heart, but will it stop others from trying?"

* * *

 _Paris, France…_

Len walked out of the office, nervous, but feeling somewhat- if ever so slightly- assured that Perrine Bruyere would grant her the job.

As she was walking down the corridor, however, someone appeared on the other side.

It was the Thai princess. Her regal poise and bearing, her glamourous clothing and jewels and her steely, icy gaze certainly made Len stop in her tracks.

Arinya saw Eleanor Henstridge emerge, and her eyes narrowed. She gave her a look filled with icy contempt and the promise of retribution before she and her entourage moved off.

"What was _that_ about?" Len muttered.

Arinya of Thailand' blood boiled as she walked off to her car, and the promise of retribution was just beginning. This girl dared… They had already infected the Greek and Danish royal families. And the Dutch. And the Swazi. But the Thai monarchy had had rebuilt its usefulness and prestige to their own people during her wonderful grandfather's reign. And they were struggling to keep it thanks to her father. Now it seemed the mere touch of a Henstridge could destroy everything her beloved grandfather had fought so hard to build.

Worse still was the grudge she had towards Eleanor Henstridge- the bitch still hadn't paid. Everything else could be overlooked and easily forgiven, but Eleanor Henstridge was a bitch in the first-class degree. No, worse.

Arinya hadn't forgotten. Back then when Eleanor had been the 'cool' princess around, ever since then she had held a grudge. Nowadays, Eleanor was disgraced and trying to build her reputation.

She was going to make Henstridge pay one way or another.

And she wouldn't stop until Eleanor was as thoroughly disgraced and humiliated as she had been.

 **A**


	18. Chapter 18

**To** **Superdani4Ever** **: Everything's not so bad- I just needed a good plan of all of this. And here is the next chapter of this story- ever since I've posted the previous chapter, I've been on a roll. Like I said before, this is the next stage of the storyline.**

 **I think Dimitri could handle his mother better than Aglaia, though. Aglaia was the youngest, she had always been firmly within her mother's grasp, even during wartime. Plus, he's very discreet, even his mother would find it difficult to find anything. He makes sure she knows where the limits are. As for the reason as to why her brothers didn't notice her ex? He's supposed to be dead- they all thought they'd seen him die, and there was evidence. Apparently, they were wrong. I admit, I thought of Charlize Theron in SWATH more than Sharon Stone (because she's so beautiful and the way she looks at her rivals would stop them dead), but that works too. They're a tight-knit family, and Anastasia knows that to beat the threats to her daughter and grandchildren, she has to play their game… For now. Of course, how can they possibly control those relatives of theirs? The reason Aglaia put herself in Veruca's firing line is because she knows that if her husband exacts the punishment, or anyone else, Veruca would threaten** _ **them.**_ **If it was only Aglaia, then her vendetta would be on her alone. There's no controlling them, so it would be a total failure, resulting in disaster to even try.**

 **Robert and his two brothers-in-law** _ **will**_ **team up. And Alexios is set to become a father- which is always great news. Yes, finally, the first year mark! They've found each other, and don't worry because (spoiler alert!) she's not dead in the other story! I just haven't finished that (and am reconsidering about that story- I like this one more).**

 **I've been hinting at a ghost in previous chapters, and yes, there** _ **is**_ **a ghost. I'm not going to say whether it's a literal or figurative ghost or who it is, but it's there. Just not the way you think.**

 **Things are about to get crazy for the families. Unfortunately, if someone is not going to die, something has to happen to move the older characters along.**

 **Why? Because the babies need to grow up and take centre stage. Will, Andrew and Selena are going to become the central characters soon, so there needs to be a time gap when they're mature enough to be in control. The main focus will shift from Helena, Liam, Eleanor, Cyrus and even Robert and Aglaia and her family, to the three children and the question on whether or not they'll be able to put things right.**

* * *

 **Disclaimer : You don't need me to say it. It all belongs to _E!_**

* * *

 **There will be killing till the score is paid.**

"There are ghosts everywhere," Aglaia whispered.

Either that or she was going mad.

But the sugar rose was real enough. As was the bracelet.

And huge palaces and castles were a ghost's favourite haunt- _yes,_ that was a pun.

Her crazy ex-boyfriend who was supposed to be dead seemed to be alive.

Veruca Popperwell, the former duchess of Essex, was on the run.

Her husband's deposed uncle was living in their palace, swilling down liquor by the gallons.

And there was something- or someone in the palace where they lived.

Great, just great.

But she put those aside for the children's first birthday.

The three of them had already spoken short words and were beginning to put those words together. They now ate small pieces of chicken and other meats when they were cut small enough, fish nuggets and jellies. They'd since been weaned and drank their milk from sippy cups and the occasional bottle. They were growing.

And now they were standing and walking more and more. That wasn't to say they wouldn't stumble and fall every now and then.

Aglaia had since learned that babies outgrew their clothes so fast, that it was more practical to have second-hand items or buy cheap things than expensive things which would have to be given away. She could easily give the triplets' things away or sell them and hand the money over to a charity. But it didn't solve the problem of the clothes budget she'd insisted on keeping. They no longer wore cloth diapers now that they were bigger and beginning to move a lot more (linen leaks, obviously).

Today they were wearing new clothes, their best so far. Selena was in an ivory velvet dress with an ivory satin blouse with a softly-pleated collar-frill around her neck, and matching cuffs. Aglaia and Eleanor had made the outfits themselves, Aglaia insisting on a classical look and a precise colour scheme. Will was wearing a pair of small trousers in dark blue, a slightly lighter blue shirt, and a velvet jacket. Andrew was in navy blue trousers, shirt with a midnight blue jacket. No paparazzi. The parents' best interest was guarding the children's privacy as well as their safety, until they were ready.

The babies were photographed. They'd been showered with gifts- such lavish gifts that their mother worried that they would grow up expectant and spoiled. But she would make sure they would not. Besides the only reason they slept in three different nurseries was because if one of them cried, it would not wake the other three.

The photographer clicked- no flashes allowed. The babies cooed, happy today, giggled and grinned. Their parents were with them, but their various relatives were not pictured.

Aglaia knew the image of the royal family was all but destroyed. People may smile and cheer, wave their flags and so forth when the royals stepped out onto the balcony, but ever since Helena's affair was made public, her twins- whose lives were filled with wild parties and scandals already- had their paternity doubted. That was a scandal. Cyrus had taken advantage of the situation and was crowned king- before being deposed. Now Veruca, recently remarried to the former king, was said to have prostituted her (dopey) daughters to foreign princes, so they would gain their thrones. The royals of Europe were far from impressed or pleased in any way. She was dishonoured, stripped of her title, kept under house arrest and then escaped only to be on the run.

These children- whether their mother liked it or not- were the future of the monarchy and their greatest hope.

Will grabbed onto a table and toddled towards a ball. He picked it up, grinning and offered it to his father, who smiled as he took it as a suggestion to play. Will chuckled, prompting Andrew to half-crawl, half-toddle furiously towards them to join in the fun. Selena wouldn't be left behind either. They all wanted to play and the photographer had wonderful pictures to distribute to the public one it was done, of the joyful happy family. Not at their palace, not at a royal residence but at a beach, with a rented bungalow.

They were happiest there.

Aglaia met Robert's eyes and both of them thought the same thing:

 _If only it could last…_

But the next day they were heading for Edinburg, and then back to London and the palace which symbolised debauchery, scandal, intrigue, murder and all things you would kill or die to keep your children from.

Once the photographer had gone, Robert looked at her. "Christmas is coming soon." He smiled.

She smiled in turn, remembering the babies' first Christmas. Robert had been… Apprehensive to say the least when he heard that they would be celebrating Christmas on their own- again. They all had been. But who was it that taught them to cook the Turkey and heat up the Figgy pudding (which was drenched in booze, seriously, Aglaia considered herself British as well as Greek, but she could never get used to _that_ dish). But they loved that Christmas and Robert said openly he wished they had had more Christmases like that when his father was alive. Everyone looked wistful and misty-eyed. Aglaia had only met the late King Simon once when she was a young girl, but she understood.

"Let's have us and the babies for the Christmas broadcast." He suggested. That was Aglaia's mind from the beginning. It was just what she wanted.

"Just us. No king, no queen, no princes and princesses- just us- as a family."

He agreed.

* * *

 _Edinburgh, Scotland…_

"I feel so free and less pressured when I'm here," Aglaia confessed.

"Same," Liam admitted. "Here, we can really let our hair down, without the crowd watching." He inwardly cursed himself. That came out wrong.

"It's winter soon," Aglaia sighed. "We don't get much snow in Athens or Crete, but up north…" She sighed.

Liam looked at her. "You're homesick," he realised.

Aglaia shook her head. "I'm British now, as well as Greek." She replied. "This is my home."

Was she saying that out of duty? Liam wondered. Or did she say that for so long that she managed to convince herself of that? Or was she trying to?

Or- Liam was interrupted from his thoughts when Aglaia turned and smiled at him. "At some point, all birds have to leave the nest," she said, coming closer to him. Liam could feel the faint, but deliciously appealing warmth of her skin, the intoxicating perfume: was that gillyflower? Mixed in with a bit of myrtle or harebell, a flower associated with Scotland, like thistles? Whatever it was, she smelled…

Wonderful. Intoxicating. Enchanting. Appealing. Liam had over a million ways to describe any part of Aglaia and it was not enough. She was so close, he wondered if she could hear his heart beating- no, scratch that- _hammering._ Pounding like a drum. She was wearing a white blouse with a dark red-and-green Scottish _earasaid_ and brooch. She made that look elegant and appealing. Stylish and fashionable without even trying to keep up with anyone.

Was it any wonder? She was the most beautiful woman in the world. Liam couldn't deny that. But what made her even more beautiful, what put her above the other women he had ever known in his life, was that unlike them, she didn't want to be beautiful. She didn't try, or even put on a show. She didn't wear layers of makeup- unlike Mum who would never dream of going out there without being dressed to the nines, hair styled and expertly made-up. Len too, even during her wild days, would always make a point with her appearance, to try and make herself look as sexy as possible- the shortest skirts, the tightest trousers and low-cut tops, the smokiest eye-makeup and juiciest-looking lip gloss. Ophelia, when he remembered her, also felt pressured- she felt a need to put herself out there, to be _'one of them',_ even though she really didn't want it. And was that a surprise? She tried to dress like Len or his mother, put an effort into wearing fascinators whenever there was an event, or struggled to find an evening dress. Gemma was a diamond heiress, she was naturally entitled to Prada and Gucci, Burberry and Versace. Layers and layers of makeup, kilos of jewellery and Liam suspected that she had plastic surgery- she certainly had a makeup artist come in every day. Even Kathryn was jittery and nervous, always making up just to go to work, in case she looked bad. And he couldn't even get started on Penelope and Maribel.

Yet here was a woman, Aglaia who was regarded as a fashion icon, but was currently not wearing much- if any- makeup. And that, in Liam's eyes, not only was refreshing, but beautiful in a pure, uncorrupted way. And she was, he realised, pure and untouched. She was possibly the purest, kindest and most compassionate and honest person he had ever come across. Everyone always had an agenda. Gemma wanted his status and fame, as the future king, for one. Ophelia tried to like him, but realised she didn't want him in the end- and her dad took advantage of her relationship with him- or hated him. Kathryn chose Robert- only for things to fall apart.

Why was he thinking about this now?

Liam mentally tried to clear his thoughts. This can't be like last time! She wasn't-

"Liam?" Aglaia's clear, melodious voice broke through his thoughts. He forgot what he had been thinking. His heart skipped several beats and started again. "Are you alright?"

"I-" Liam found he could barely speak. "I'm fine." He managed.

Except that he felt all flushed and tingled warm all over, when it was a windy autumn day.

Aglaia's brow furrowed. "Are you sure? Do you want me to-"

"No, no, I'm fine." Liam said, hastily. A little too quickly. "Really," he tried to step back. "I'm fine." Liam instead found himself rooted to the ground.

Aglaia looked worried. Her clear, brilliant green eyes gazed calmly, soothingly, but still concerned, at him. He was beginning to cool down, soothed because of her mere presence when-

Aglaia touched his forehead. Liam stiffened in alarm. Her skin felt… Silky. Warm yet cool, burrowing into his skin.

"You don't feel fine," she said, worriedly. "Your temperature… It's burning."

Liam struggled to speak. Did he feel fine?

"We should go back," Aglaia decided immediately. She took his arm, and Liam's heart nearly flew out of his chest. She steered him straight into the direction of Holyrood Palace, the royals' primary Scottish residence.

She felt warm, the tartan suddenly soft, burrowing into him. Her grip was gentle, but firm. Liam looked down at her, her black hair tickling her cheek, her brilliant green eyes, her delicate profile, the perpetually serene, calm and soothing look upon that beautiful face, her smooth cheeks flushed with cold…

His heart hammered. He couldn't help it. He was in love.

With his brother's wife.

* * *

Robert poured a glass of strong Scotch whiskey.

"What's gotten you so disturbed?" A drawling voice appeared.

Robert suppressed a groan and turned to face his pinched and sallow-faced uncle. His eyes bleary with drink.

"Uncle," he tried to look welcoming. Cyrus only smirked. "Don't bother. I know how you really feel."

"Do you?" He asked.

"Where's that lovely wife of yours?" He asked.

"Out, why?"

"Oh, really? Where?"

"In the grounds."

"With whom? Just the security?"

"No," Robert said. He fell silent. He didn't want to say it, but his uncle said: "With Liam?"

Robert had nothing to say. Cyrus took the bottle and poured the whiskey in a spare glass. "Your wife's relatives have got me drinking that- what do you call it? Oh yes, _Ouzo._ Tasty stuff, that. Strong too. Helps me drown in my sorrows, I wonder if you're doing the same."

Robert raised an eyebrow. "What do I have to be miserable for?"

"Oh, nothing." Cyrus shrugged, nonchalantly. "You're the king of the greatest nation on earth- though your in-laws will say differently. You've won the hand, and the heart the world's most beautiful woman, and have three stunning children with her: two strapping, healthy boys and a girl whose beauty will someday equal her mother's. You've isolated your rival for the throne and kept me isolated. I'm vulnerable. And I'm a hanger-on." He took another drink.

"On the other hand, you're asking yourself, how long will it last?" Cyrus looked at him, peering above the glass as he drank. "How long before everything spoils it? You've seen it with Pryce and Metaxas, when they tried to do away your brothers-in-law, and nearly forced you and the love of your life to divorce. You had everything and you nearly lost it. The next time something like that happens again, well-" Cyrus' smirk widened. "I wish you all the best. You'll need it. Unfortunately for you, it's part of the parcel of being king. Your dad, Good King Simon had it, I had it, the Villainous Uncle, and then you: The Chosen One, the Once and Future King- whatever you call yourself," he slurred as he took another drink. Deciding to ditch the glass, he picked up the whole bottle. "I mean," he stumbled across his words. "It's bad enough I see your own brother ogling over you lovely bride just before your wedding- not that that's changed much since. But we all know Liam is ruled by his hot-blood, hot-head, hard cock, lack of direction and discretion, and the winds of his emotions- and that includes his feelings." Cyrus shrugged. "Including that for your wife."

Robert's hand tightened around the glass. "You know nothing."

"Do I?" Cyrus chuckled. "How long have I lived in that damned palace, boy? How long did it take us both to become addicted- no wait, that's all of us. I know your mother hated keeping a façade, in the beginning, she wanted to marry for love. Unfortunately for her, being one of the day's greatest beauties, made your loathsome pimp of a granny parade her under the royal family's noses, in the hopes that your dad would pick her. She wasn't happy to find out that Dominique Stewart had won it instead. But she was happy, wasn't she, when she had Alistair Stewart. But make no mistake. Once that crown was on her head, she shone in the spotlight. She couldn't bear it otherwise. She fought for her crown, just as I did. She couldn't survive without being the queen. And then there's Liam. The younger, party-boy brother. He didn't like the press intruding, neither did his twin. They hated the royal life, they hated the rules, but they couldn't get away. So, they became addicted. She flaunted her royal beaver in some nightclub, in front of the cameras, Liam ended up across the Atlantic with a couple of bottle-end w***es, photographed drunk and wasted in the early hours of the morning. They hated the press, they hated the attention, but they became addicted. They became addicted to it all, couldn't get away from the limelight. And then you died." He took a swig from the bottle. "And Liam became first-in-line. At first, believe me, he only wanted to please dear old Daddy and honour big brother's memory. But then, when Mummy, Daddy, the press and the public started paying him more and more attention, and giving him praise…" Cyrus laughed bitterly. "How well did your little brother take to your coronation?"

Robert was silent. He hated it. He hated that he had nothing to say at all. But Cyrus was right. It was addictive. Every last bit of it.

"And now you have not only the wife people would die and kill for, but three little children, pure, innocent, sweet babies to be brought into this world of debauchery, corruption and who-knows-what. Did you even know this when you heard your dad wanted to abolish the monarchy? Did you ever think-" Cyrus drunkenly waved a careless hand. "That you might be better off without all this? Just you, your wife and kids? Some house by the sea?"

"You're one to talk," Robert said evenly. "You fought like the devil to get parliament to vote against the referendum." He had kept up-to-date with the news.

"Because I had nothing else." Cyrus smiled bitterly. "That's the price I had to pay. And in the end, the throne didn't even stay with me."

"Well, perhaps you could try to build yourself a life outside palace walls," Robert suggested, calmly.

"If only- once you're in, it's too late." Cyrus took another gulp. "You can never get out." He took another bottle, and a third and headed back to his suite. "He's still looking at her, you know." Cyrus called back without looking.

"Who?" Robert found himself asking, although he knew the answer.

"Liam." As he walked away, Robert heard a smashing sound. He looked down and saw that the glass he held was now in pieces.

Aglaia took out the pins securing her hair. He luxuriant, thick, silky locks fell in a cascade around her shoulders. Robert stood in the doorway. She saw him in the mirror.

He stepped forwards and gently took out the rest of the pins. Aglaia leaned back against his warm touch.

He bent and kissed the exposed skin of her neck. She sighed and leaned back further, caressing his hair. He kissed his way down to her shoulders, slipping the clothes off.

But something bothered Robert and he couldn't shake it off. Something was bothering Aglaia too. So, despite the mad passion they displayed that night- in fact it was probably because of that they were even more passionate than usual- it irked them both.

Afterwards, they lay in bed, staring in silence at the ceiling. Neither of them spoke a word.

It was Robert who eventually broke the silence. "You've met with your brother." It was not a question.

"Yes," that was Aglaia's reply. "I wasn't expecting him to be at the Isle of Wight, especially as Artemisia's pregnancy is progressing. But I suppose it was alright."

"That's good news," Robert stated. He paused. He had no idea how to bring this up with her.

"How was your walk with Liam."

"It was fine, but I was concerned for him after a while."

Robert turned his head to look at her. "Concerned? Why?"

"I thought he might've had a fever- or at least a cold." Aglaia admitted with a shrug. "He was burning up. But not drastically, I realised that."

Robert paused. "So… He isn't sick?"

"No." Aglaia said with relief, unaware of her husband's growing… What? What was it? Paranoia? Unease?

She pulled herself upright, wrapped only with the sheets. Her back was turned, so she didn't see Robert's face which was like stone.

Liam… Burning with passion… Was it possible?

But then, he did remember seeing Liam with Aglaia shortly before the wedding. Talking, just talking. And then again, at the pre-wedding gala. He knew how much his younger siblings admired her. So he said nothing. But the way Liam gazed at her…

No. Not her, never her. Aglaia was his true love, the love of his life. His soulmate, not Liam's. his hand clenched into a fist. Why couldn't Liam stay content with bloody Kathryn? Or Pryce's daughter? Why Aglaia, why his _wife?_

Robert wanted to shout and howl with frustration.

Their previous rounds of sex weren't enough to calm him. He tossed aside the covers, pulled on his clothes, blood boiling all the while.

Could Alexios be right? Could Cyrus? Cyrus was one of the least-trustworthy people on the planet, but Alexios…

Alexios needed him to stay alive to keep his sister and their children safe and their positions secure. And if Alexios had said something like this…

' _My parents knew,'_ he'd warned Robert right before the triplets' birthday celebrations. _'Or at least they'd suspected. Dimitri knows and while it was… Amusing to him at first, it stopped being that funny after some time.'_

Robert had never found it hilarious. He didn't know what the hell was so funny about all this. Liam in love with Aglaia? Dimitri had a bizarre sense of humour, but Robert did suspect the second brother was somewhat psychotic. Besides, if half the stories they said about him was true, Dimitri enjoyed the torment of people he did not like.

The thought of Liam… He trusted Aglaia, but something in Cyrus' words, no matter how untrustworthy, rang true. Dimitri had said the same thing. And if Alexios and his shifty younger brother had spotted it along with their parents…

Aglaia was an innocent. A beautiful, sweet innocent. She wasn't stupid, but he knew she had no idea.

But Liam… Liam was persuasive. Charming when he wanted to be. He certainly knew how to get what he wanted, Robert thought bitterly. He always had, ever since they were little. Whilst Robert was cooped up indoors studying political science, sociology, the workings of the House of Commons and the House of Lords in parliament, Liam and Eleanor had wheedled the staff for cuttings of pastries and hot buttery rolls, chocolates to sneak into their pockets without anyone noticing, filching cream or cheese from the dairies in Holyrood Palace grounds. They certainly managed to get Duchie to hand diamonds like cups of water on a hot day, get huge allowances and free passes to go for expensive trips to who-knows-where? Milan? Paris or Monaco? Versace or Prada? Giorgio Armani?

Robert had had enough.

* * *

"Enter," he called out.

"Sir?" A dark-haired man with coffee-toned skin and an elegant, tailored suit appeared.

"Yes, come in, please." Robert said, standing up. He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Please."

He sat. "Mr. Jeffries, the last time I saw you, you were a member of my younger brother's security detail," he said conversationally as he poured whiskey into two glasses. "I hear Liam was quite fond of you."

Marcus Jeffries sighed. "He was a good friend."

"Then why did you transfer?" Robert asked. "After my father's death."

Marcus shrugged despondently. "Not by choice. I was reassigned after His Late Majesty's death."

"To the new king?" Robert raised an eyebrow. He passed the whiskey to Marcus. "And what was he like?"

"His Royal Highness has a sense of… Flair and fashion," Marcus said carefully.

"No need to bat the butterfly," Robert said, sitting down. "I know what my uncle's like. But what do you think Liam is like?"

Marcus blinked. "Sir?"

"You've been a part of his security detail for six years prior to my father's death," Robert said calmly, looking him in the eye. "And this is a delicate subject, but he was… Affiliated with Ophelia Pryce?"

Marcus froze. "Sir?" He choked.

"Ophelia Pryce, how did he get to be with her?"

Marcus swallowed. "I suppose… Well, it was a case of one thing led to another."

"That's normally the case with Liam's girlfriends," Robert sighed. "But was he serious?"

"With her? I believe he wanted to be, he simply- forgive me sir, I don't mean to seem too forward."

"No, it's quite alright." Robert assured him. "Please continue."

Marcus paused, taking his time, and biding his words. "He simply did not know how to proceed and maintain the relationship. And I do not believe Ophelia was truly ready for the realities of royal life, sir."

Robert nodded. "But he did go after her?" He asked him.

"Yes, sir." Marcus confessed. "He went to America, from what I've heard."

"To see her?"

"She went to a dance academy in New York," Marcus explained. "And Prince Liam went after her… Only to find that she had moved on. She was seeing someone else."

Robert nodded, in silence. To his surprise, he had some pity for his brother- well, it wasn't really surprising. Liam was his brother. He felt terrible for him, after all. Liam didn't seem to be lucky in love.

Robert knew that as a royal, love was going to be exceptionally difficult for them. Who could resist the status? The glitter and glamour? But how many people saw them for themselves and not as some archetypal Prince Charming? And how many of them could withstand the harsh realities of life in a crazy goldfish bowl, with danger, intrigue and scandal around every corner?

"What about his ex-girlfriend, the one he'd been dating before?" Robert asked. "The diamond heiress?"

"She hung around for some time," Marcus admitted. "It wasn't uncommon to see her in and around the palace."

"So why is she no longer here?" He asked.

"She… Well," Marcus struggled to find the words. "After your uncle's accusations, the fake paternity test and his coronation…" He trailed off.

Robert absorbed this in silence. His poor, damned brother. Liam. Did he ever learn? The title, the looks, the fame and the money were magnets. And they attracted all the wrong people.

Robert heaved a sigh as he gazed at the fireplace.

"I'm growing concerned," he began.

"Over the prince, your majesty?"

"Yes. Liam knows you had no hand in your reassignment. And you are, to be frank, one of our best." Robert stated. He looked Marcus in the eye. "That's nothing short of the truth."

Marcus nodded his head, respectfully. "But tell me," Robert said very carefully. "Does Liam tend to think before he acts? Especially in regards with, well, his emotions? Love, for instance?"

Marcus winced. "Not… So much sir." He confessed.

"So," Robert said calmly. "Was my mother pleased when she learnt of his relationship with Ophelia Pryce?"

Marcus paused. His silence was enough.

"I see. But Liam went for it, anyway."

"Yes, sir."

The king was silent. Liam and Len made it their mission, ever since they were young, to break every rule in the book. He was a fool to think his younger brother would ever hesitate when it came to love.

"Has it ever landed him into trouble?"

Marcus was stunned. "Sir?"

"You've known my brother for six years prior to my disappearance, and you kept protecting him ever since." Robert said, plainly. "You've seen him when he was first-in-line for the throne. You've watched him grow into the role, pursue other interests when he thought no one was looking. Tell me the truth: has my brother ever pursued love, knowing full well it could land him in serious trouble?"

Marcus swallowed again. His answer was barely audible, but Robert heard it clearly. "Yes, sir."

Everything was silent in the room, save for the crackling of the fire.

"So, he's pushed his limits," Robert said, his eyes back on the flames. "He's done it before. Do you think he will ever do it to a married woman?"

Marcus stared. "Sir?" He managed.

He looked straight at Marcus again. "If you want out, now is your chance." Robert nodded. "I will never force neither you nor anyone into something you'd rather not be a part of. The question is, can you handle it?"

Marcus thought about it. Well, what hadn't he handled? He'd been there for wild parties, royal hook-ups and shags, gambling and booze to rival Vegas, widespread public mourning, stupid actions which he had no say over, including in advice. Heartbreak, tragedy, betrayal and back-stabbing, the royal family trying to rip each other to shreds behind the scenes, paparazzi attacks, riot mobs, crazy stunts pulled by desperate royals, murder, treason and regicide… You name it. Surely this couldn't get any crazier, right?

"I swore to protect the royal family, the monarch and his heirs," Marcus said evenly. "At all costs. Even my life."

Robert bowed his head. "You are assuredly one of the most noble people I have ever met," he said honestly. "But within our circle… Quite frankly, not everyone's like you."

"And I'm fully aware of that, sir." Marcus stated. He looked Robert in the eye. "And still, I won't shrink back from my duties."

Robert nodded. "Very well. Keep an eye on Liam. You'll be a member of his security detail. If you see him doing anything that may be… Inappropriate, no matter how trivial it seems, even if it is just your suspicions, report back to me. I am his brother. Not just his king. I need to know if he's going over his head with something that no one can easily pull out of if it turns out to be a mess- a very public mess, for instance. Especially if it involves anyone else."

"I will sir," Marcus nodded. "You have my word."

* * *

The babies were shooting up, Aglaia noted. They were toddling around now, and they rarely, Andrew most especially, liked being carried around. Aglaia's heart squeezed a little at the thought of that. She wanted to hold and cuddle them to her forever, and now she knew they couldn't wait and were eager to get out into the world. Well, Selena was the most content to be held, out of the three of them, but even she was eagerly stumbling around, chasing after her two brothers as Andrew squealed and tried to grab things, and Will explored, though he always kept in mind he had two others to look out for.

Aglaia had to smile. Whenever Andrew stumbled and was frustrated he would work his way into a tantrum, but Will would always be the first to give out a cry, alerting his mother, father or any of the nannies and relatives that his brother needed help. Or when Selena who was curious and quick to crawl or toddle on her feet had wandered a bit too far and he could no longer see her, Will would give a desperate cry and that was the only signal anyone needed.

Now that was adorable.

Andrew had a prickly temperament, that much was obvious. He was quite feisty and would wriggle and squirm out of anyone's grasp. He wasn't a whiny child, nor was he that bad-tempered, but he was quite forceful, and Aglaia had never known a baby to be so determined about anything. If he wanted something, and he didn't get it, he didn't throw a tantrum. He did everything he could to obtain it. Even if it meant wrestling the security team's sunglasses from them to gnaw. If he did get frustrated, which she suspected was normally due to his inability to be as agile as the adults around him, he would have a tantrum, but much to everyone's relief, it never lasted.

Selena was easily the sweetest-tempered and happiest of the three. The first to smile and coo with infinite love and adoration when her mother or father picked her up, or anyone else she knew and grew to recognise on sight. She seemed eager to open her heart and love just about anybody, she enjoyed being cuddled, and would look up to whoever was cuddling her, her green eyes sparkling, nuzzling them close, a happy, adoring smile on her face. She even smiled when she woke up in the mornings or from her nap.

The triplets were sixteen months old now, already beginning to babble words in a mixture of baby talk, English and Greek. Aglaia had also made a point in teaching them Scottish Gaelic and Welsh (Irish, Cornish and Manx may come afterwards), and they quickly soaked them up like a sponge. They were starting to jabber away to each other and everyone around them.

Soon they were old enough for their first official tour.

Aglaia had spent nights sewing and using her first-rate seamstress skills (which she had used as a princess of Greece, whenever her family members' evening gown, cocktail dress, suit or tuxedo needed tailoring, adjusting or embellishment), ambitious in the knowledge that her children were going to be the best-dressed, smartly groomed royal children, but with the most appropriate modesty. They were not spending countless millions or even thousands on the children's outfits, she declared. She'd had Len's help, and they spent their time sketching and colouring, discarding ideas, stitching, embroidering, tailoring, patterning- you name it. Aglaia had already taken the children's measurements. But unlike famous celebrities, the queen consort of the United Kingdom and princess of Greece could not afford to dress so outstandingly lavishly. Most of the brands Aglaia herself wore were British or Greek. Or else she wore something she made herself. And not for expensive prices. It was hard trying to please everyone with your wardrobe. What a royal wore was always symbolic. When the queen of the Netherlands went to a Muslim country, she wore a headscarf, thus signalling her disagreement with her country's right-wing extremists. As a constitutional monarch, they weren't supposed to say anything about politics and politicians (they didn't even have the right to vote), but nobody said they couldn't convey it through fashion!

So, there was pressure to appear impeccable and striking at the very least. But there was also the criticism if you spent too much money. Anti-monarchists (whose numbers have plummeted, ever since their wedding and Robert's ascension), would eagerly leap at the opportunity to criticise them, and the monarchy was unstable and in desperate need of popular support.

Which was why Aglaia was going hard-out on this trip. They needed support. Who knows what would happen to them without it?

"Are you sure you'll be fine?" She asked Len and Jasper. "Here in the palace?" She tucked in Will's shirt into his new shorts.

"Yes, go ahead, seriously, we'll be fine." Len said.

Aglaia studied Will's whole ensemble. She sighed, then transferred her attentions onto the next child who wore darker colours. Andrew squirmed, but a warning look from his mother meant that he quieted… For now.

"We need to go on this trip," she muttered. "We need people on our side."

Eleanor and Jasper exchanged glances. Aglaia's brow was furrowed with worry. "Nothing is stable nor secure here. Plus, my brother's wife has given birth to twins and I have to be there for the Christening, I'm godmother after all."

Their Royal Highness Prince Aristides-Achileos and Princess Tatiana-Cyrena had been born. A pair of twins. Aglaia prayed desperately that their conception had been guaranteed without the effects of any medication and her mother's interference. She shuddered just thinking about it. But triplets for her and twins for her brother? No, she would not think about it.

Aglaia sighed and stood. "Well, we'll see you in a month-and-a-half," she said regretfully. "Good grief, that's long."

"Time flies." Len kissed her on both cheeks. She then scooped up each of the babies one by one, kissing each of their chubby cheeks.

"Good luck."

* * *

"And look, the royal babies- _aww,_ they are so adorable!" The female newsreader squealed. "And look- oh my goodness, the queen really looks absolutely stunning without even meaning to! Aren't they the world's most gorgeous family?"

"They are indeed, Elsie, they are indeed." Her colleague agreed. The screen showed a good view of the king, the queen, the prince of Wales, his younger brother and the Princess Royal, waving. Or rather, the royal couple were waving, it took a while for the children to wave too.

"The king and queen in the Belgian capital, Brussels, being greeted by dignitaries, and arriving at the royal palace, to be greeted by Their Majesties, the king and queen of Belgium. What a fortnight, it's been.

"Yes, so far, the immediate royal family has visited three countries, including Poland, France and Spain. The trip also coincides with the Christenings of Prince Aristides-Achileos and Princess Tatiana-Cyrena of Greece, the queen's nephew and niece, the second and third in line in Greece's line of succession. The children are extraordinarily well-behaved, the royal family has made Britain proud."

"Yes, I for one, am truly proud to be British. These are the future of Britain, they are the great hope of the monarchy, the king, queen, princes and princess. And we are all holding our breaths waiting to see what these little boys and girl will grow up to be." The television went on.

Aglaia was reading the papers for tomorrows schedule and Robert diligently checked up on everything which was going on back in London. To tell the truth, he would be much more at ease if a bomb blew up the whole palace while they weren't there, rather than whatever intrigues Cyrus might be planning. As for his siblings… He didn't want to know.

That was why Robert had set eyes and ears everywhere. Every millimetre of the palace was under close surveillance by the ones he trusted.

"Yes, thank you," Aglaia was now thanking someone on the phone. Robert read through all the state papers that had been sent to him- online.

And he would be certain that no one was planning anything whilst he was around. But could he trust his own mother and siblings for such monumental tasks?

And where the hell was Veruca Popperwell?

Over a year since she was last seen, the former duchess of Essex and the disgraced and dishonoured wife of the deposed king was nowhere to be found. And that troubled him.

Not least of which was because Veruca had a vendetta against Aglaia, his own wife.

Robert strongly suspected that Veruca was in Swaziland, but unfortunately, he had absolutely no way of proving that. He couldn't just demand that the Swazi king turn her over.

* * *

A year passed. The children turned two. Then three. Then four, five and six. They started nursery school (or kindergarten, whatever people called it), pre-school before enrolling for primary when they were six. Both parents always made an effort to be there for them. Who made them breakfast? Mum. Who packed their lunches? Mum or dad. Who helped them with their homework, even if it meant taking time off important duties and paperwork, who had been there for bath time, and tucked them into bed? That's right, Mum and Dad.

Currently, the children were doing their homework. They were in their sitting room, which was also their father's office. Their mother sat nearby, watching each of them, carefully monitoring their progress and helping them whenever they asked for it.

Andrew had coloured in pictures of blocks and drew lines to connect shapes of varying amounts to their respective numbers, mixed and scrambled on the other side of the page. He had gotten three leaves from the garden for science, and had begun drawing them carefully with his mother's help.

Will was doing his English homework, first identifying vowels in sentences, then connecting illustrations of animals with the letter they began with. Selena's homework was drawing a plant from the garden. After that was done, she needed to read one page from a storybook. Aglaia watched them, smiling contentedly.

Help them learn through play, her parents had said. If they felt like they wanted to learn, then that was what they should do. For certain hours of the day, the triplets were outdoors, and were not allowed any toys with them. Len joked that they were in 'kid heaven', and they were encouraged to invent their own games- or play them with their parents. For example, there were competitions as to who could find three sticks, four different leaves and five different flowers altogether. How many did they all add up to? Who finished first? How many times can they spin? Who could climb the highest, who could find the little prizes their mum, dad and the staff had cleverly hidden by connecting clues, like the tree with only four branches?

If they won, after a day of racing around excitedly, they all received a prize. Their classmates were invited, even encouraged to come as well.

The little cottage on palace grounds must have been used by royals in the past to have secret liaisons with their paramours. Aglaia hated it (predictable) and she shuddered at the thought of the children playing and spending their time at somewhere where their granny might've… You know. She had no doubt that Helena was still doing it- with her Lord Chamberlain. But she decided to look the other way, they all did.

So, the three of them helped with the renovating of a new cottage- which was a shed. It was something the family helped with and occasionally invited the rest of the family to come and help. It had everything from a small kitchen, to a miniature garden plot, where they tended plants and grew fruit and vegetables. Each of them had their own miniature wheelbarrow and set of gardening tools and gloves. The produce was carefully inspected by the gardeners and if good enough, their parents would pay the market rate for the one who had grown them. Sometimes, they would even get to cook their own meals and bake treats that would be served to staff and guests in the cottage. The children would always be supervised by their parents, and they were encouraged to make friends and bring them home for play, which they did, much to their parents' delight.

Will and Andrew's little friend Josh was there as well. He was also doing his homework and helped along by the royal couple. Aglaia thought the faces of his parents when their child had been invited for playdate, the first time, were priceless. Many of the parents were dressed up when they first came to school, pushing their own kids forward to be the first ones to say hello to the princes and princess. Tonight, Josh was having a sleepover here. Aglaia had done her best to make his parents comfortable in her presence, and Robert's, and who knows? Maybe the children would be lifelong friends. While the press did not know who the children's friends' names were, they did know they were making friends with children that were not the offspring of aristocrats, the heirs of billionaire magnates, and other royals (who lived far away). Or even celebrities.

The children would have to be bathed and put to bed soon, Aglaia reflected. The British never ceased to be amazed by this, she thought. The fact that they were having playdates and sleepovers with children from working or middle class, was it so extraordinary, especially nowadays? Apparently so. But as Aglaia looked over at Josh and saw him sorting cut-outs of coloured letters and using a glue-stick to paste them onto another sheet of paper. Will had gone to him and the two boys were eventually joined by Andrew while Selena decided she wanted to go cuddle daddy, sleepily toddling her way towards Robert's desk.

After a while, the boys began playing a game but Selena didn't want to join in. Aglaia tried to coax her to play, but she shook her head, snuggling even closer to her father. Robert shrugged, hugging her tight.

"Time for bed," Aglaia announced, once they'd played long enough. "Come on." The boys tried to protest, but Aglaia saw Selena had already fallen asleep. "Come on," Robert carried her gently, and took one of their hands. Aglaia took the others and they made their way to their rooms. Josh would be with Will. After that was done, Aglaia looked at Robert. He'd gone to Selena's room, no doubt. She knew Robert didn't love her any more than he did the boys, but he really doted upon her. She mouthed to him, _I need to talk to you later._

He nodded.

Life was going well. But Aglaia knew the danger wasn't over yet.

* * *

 _In the tunnels, deep underground…_

It was dank, and quite unfortunately, it was near the sewer system. But James Hill was firmly on the king's side, as was most of the others. This had been closed off due to the danger of crumbling blocks of stone and flooding where anyone inside would be trapped. But tonight, they needed to take the risk.

"I've waited long enough." Cyrus snapped.

"You gave up without a fight," his wife hissed.

"And what would you have done?" He snapped. "With the eye of both countries' intelligence agencies trained right on you? How did you even manage to escape?" He shook his head and decided to take a swig of gin. Veruca shoved the bottle down before it could reach his lips.

"For once, grow up and be a man," she hissed. "Listen to me- Britain can still be yours. Right now, their biggest asset is that Greek bitch. Once she's gone and we've removed her-"

" _Remove_ her?" Cyrus snorted. "Like you can do that."

"- We could make the move. Maribel has had a boy. He could become a future king of Swaziland- an absolute monarchy without any of the constitution rubbish we're accustomed to in Britain." Veruca ignored him and drew even closer. She was wearing a classic hood drawn over her conspicuous soft curls which were red. "And then there's the Netherlands. They haven't quite forgiven us… So they've allied themselves with the Greeks… And they've all but disowned Prince Adrien and Penelope… Well, they'll take the throne soon enough."

"And you think you can go against the Greeks?" Cyrus snorted again. "You know, I was genuinely surprised you even made it this far. You must have had royal help."

"No, really?" Veruca drawled, sarcastically. It certainly wasn't from him.

"They have people searching for me worldwide."

"So how did you come back here? You're a fugitive."

"The Queen Mother of Swaziland has suffered a 'stroke'." Veruca hissed. "Someday, she will be dead. And my new ally- Shabangu's mother, has been elevated to fill in the gap in the administration of Swaziland- effectively making her the unofficial first lady of the nation! Which means that she will be _Indlovukati_ someday!"

"She would be- what?" Cyrus blinked.

"It means, Great She-Elephant," Veruca said impatiently. "The title of the queen mothers of Swaziland."

"Well you can tell your massive elephant friend that I'm not interested-" before Cyrus could finish his sentence, Veruca slapped him.

Cyrus clutched his cheek. "Not again," he complained.

"Grow up," she hissed. "Be a man. Be a king or you'll forever be remembered as the king who stepped down like Baliol of Scotland- a coward and a fool! Or how about Henry VI, who slept for a year and a half-"

"While his shrew of a wife took the throne on behalf of their son," Cyrus said sardonically. "I know how history works, my dear."

"Do you?" Veruca sniffed. "At least Richard III put up a fight. You're what the Americans call a wimp. You did nothing. In fact- you are a wimp." She held up a newspaper.

It was American, alright. And he was a wimp. The royal wimp, they called him- on the front pages.

Cyrus gasped, melodramatically. "You know what they're saying about your amputation? And your one ball?"

Cyrus gasped again. Louder this time. "Listen closely," Veruca hissed. "The Greeks, MI6 and everyone else has their eyes trained on some other conflict which is brewing, but will soon boil over. This is our time. We've waited for six years. That's long enough."

"Wait- what's going to happen?" Cyrus stared.

Veruca smiled evilly. "You'll see."

* * *

The children were laughing, playing.

They were out again. There was soot or mud on the boys' faces which their mother would have to clean again.

"We're cooking in the cottage tonight." She smiled at Liam who was sitting beside her. "Do you want to come?"

"Uh, well, I don't think-" he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, nervously.

"Oh come on. Of course it's a good idea." Aglaia said, surprised. Andrew was scooping handfuls of dirt and piling them up with Selena onto a pile.

"I wish we could have been like this," Liam said wistfully, indicating the children. Selena was shrieking with laughter now. Will had taken to chasing her with a muddy stick, threatening to rub it all over her. "No photoshoots. No gala where we were dressed up and meant to be seen and not heard. No balls or wild parties."

Aglaia smiled sadly. "If only it were."

"My dad would've loved you," Liam said quietly. "He would've loved to join in, play in the mud, help them grow vegetables and other things."

"I only met your father once." Aglaia murmured. She looked sad, but then smiled. "I was a little girl and he was on a state visit to Greece. I remembered bobbing a curtsy, and then actually being hugged tightly by him. He was very kind, very attentive. A great king, I thought. He even snuck me a little vanilla-flavoured wafer when no one was looking." She laughed quietly. "He was so wonderful. He reminded me of my own father."

More than you ever know, she thought. Like her father, King Simon had to put up with a stylish, elegant queen with the personality of a powerhouse and a talent for being in control. Unlike him, however, King Simon's marriage clearly wasn't as happy.

Liam looked at her. "You're an amazing woman," he said softly. "A perfect wife, mother, and the greatest queen and friend than anyone could ever deserve." His light blue eyes softened, as he gazed upon her.

Aglaia gave a smile. "Thank you," she said, meeting his gaze. Not really understanding it, but… She felt safe with this man. He was honourable, good and great. And he'd been through a lot.

She touched his hand, which rested upon his leg. Liam nearly jolted when he felt the intoxicating warmth, yet soothing coolness of her skin.

Intoxicating was the best way to describe it. She smelt of a delicate blend of roses and violets that day. And she was so close, so near to him. He could feel her warmth, her kindness, her gentleness…

She kissed him on the cheek. It burned where her lips touched his face and he felt it searing deep down and his heart stopped… Then started pumping faster.

Liam couldn't tear his gaze from her. He was sure his heart was going crazy.

Nearby Marcus Jeffries' eyes widened.

Aglaia rose and clapped her hands together, catching the children's attention. They all ran excitedly to her. She bent down and they all swooped into her arms.

Liam never once took his eyes off her. The look in them…

Marcus gulped. The king was not going to be pleased.

* * *

"Enter." Robert called out.

"Y- your majesty." Robert straightened in his chair. He put away the last piece of paperwork he had signed. "Yes?"

Marcus opened and closed his mouth. He had no idea where and how to begin.

Robert looked at the various cabinet ministers in the room. Thank God, the prime minister had left half-an-hour early today. "I must apologise, ladies and gentlemen, I do hope you'll forgive me, but there appears to be something urgent. Perhaps we shall continue tomorrow?"

The respective members nodded and murmured their assent, bowing or bobbing a curtsy on the way out.

Once the last of them had left, Robert waited until their footsteps had receded.

"Mr. Jeffries, if you will, please make sure there is no one left in the hallway."

Marcus nodded and cast a glance outside. There was no one. He checked up and down.

"No one, sir." Robert nodded. "Thank you, if you will perhaps, close the door and lock it, we can't afford to be disturbed."

Marcus nodded again. He did as he was told. Once the locks had clicked in place, Robert gestured to the sofa near the fireplace, which was not lit.

"Has something happened with Liam? Or is it a suspicion this time?"

Marcus took the sofa opposite the king. He winced. "Your majesty… The queen and Prince Liam were out in the grounds near the forest with Their Royal Highnesses, the princes William and Andrew and Princess Selena. The children were playing and the queen and Prince Liam were sitting together nearby and talking." Robert froze.

"Go on," he encouraged.

Marcus hesitated. He broke out into a cold sweat. He had never, in all his years as a member of the royal security, ever had to undergo this. Nor had he felt this way. How on earth was he supposed to tell the _king_ that his younger brother was in love with his own wife? Because Marcus was sure now, that Prince Liam (damn it, why did he make him do this?) was in love with the queen.

Marcus swallowed again. "They were talking quietly. It wasn't much and didn't look like much. The queen acted like her usual self. Prince Liam was quiet, but it's likely he didn't want to disturb the children playing nearby. They looked wistful whilst talking, and the queen looked concerned- then she touched the prince's hand." Robert was very, very still.

"Go on," he found himself saying. Again.

"The prince… Well, he… He was flushed. He swallowed perhaps, or maybe it was my imagination…" Marcus cursed himself for acting all flustered. This was totally unprofessional. Well, the king did ask him to keep an eye out for his younger brother.

"She kissed him." He blurted. Robert's eyes widened and he started. "No, not on the lips, your majesty. On the cheek. But the way he looked at her… She didn't even see, and I don't know if he knows or-" Marcus stopped himself. "But I think…" He paled and hesitated. "That Prince Liam…" He didn't finish the sentence.

Robert tried to absorb this in silence. He turned to face the mantelpiece. Inside he was reeling- to say the least. It was as if his whole world was…

Shaking. Chaotically. Catastrophically. About to turn itself over or break.

 _No._

Alexios was right.

But how could he?!

After all these years, he finally knew.

"He's in love with her?" Robert's voice sounded distant and foreign to his own ears as he spoke.

"Sir, I can't be sure-"

"You must be," Robert turned on him suddenly. "You must know how he feels."

Marcus bit his lip. He wished he'd never consented to this. But the king had been asking him to look out for his younger brother and to stop him from doing anything that may result in a catastrophe, by warning him. And as a member of the security team, he was answerable to the king.

"I think," his voice was raspy and dry. "That he is."

"Why?" Robert whispered hoarsely. "Why? Why her? Why my wife? Why my brother? Why Aglaia?"

"Your majesty, nothing has happened," Marcus suddenly protested.

Robert looked at him again. "You know Liam," he said slowly. "Nothing will happen _yet."_

* * *

The door banged open. Aglaia startled by this sudden intrusion, looked behind her to see her husband, his face shadowed in darkness, but ultimately revealing something absolutely menacing as an expression.

"Explain." Was all he said.

Aglaia stared. "Robert?"

"Liam," he gritted his teeth. "Explain _him."_ He spat.

Aglaia stared aghast. "W- what about him?" She asked, incredulously.

Robert made his way forwards in a single stride and grabbed her wrist. _"Liam!_ What did he do?" He demanded in an instant, his eyes blazing. "Tell me!"

"What has gotten into you?" Aglaia gasped, wrenching her hand back.

"You were with him in the grounds near the forest!" He spat.

"So? I thought you knew that."

Robert smiled grimly. "I didn't know how he felt about you until recently." The door to their bedroom slammed shut.

Aglaia's jaw dropped. "What?!" She breathed. "Have you gone mad?"

Robert could laugh. He could seriously laugh, he felt like a madman, with the insanity of it all. Yes, he had never been easy when his _wife_ was in the near vicinity of his _brother!_ It's not like this was unwarranted for. He didn't give a whit about his ex, but Aglaia was his _wife,_ his soulmate, the love of his _life…_ Did he need to go on? But Liam had made it quite clear where he stood with Robert, and even though love and affection would always be there somewhere, there was the question on whether anything else would overtake it. Like love for instance. Or the throne. And honestly, Robert would prefer it if Liam was plotting the throne, scheming like a weasel, like Cyrus, or a shrewish bitch like Veruca. Instead Liam was blown about the winds of his emotions, and if he had to be honest with himself, it's not like he could help his emotions! After all, wasn't Robert the one who fell head over heels, madly and truly in love with this woman who had the most dazzling, mesmerising, breathtaking beauty, the most irresistibly delightful charm, genuineness, warmth and the most magnetic charisma anyone had ever had.

Robert did laugh. He laughed like a madman. He had been driven mad by all this. And he was mad. Incensed. Enraged. He grabbed the nearest thing to him- whatever it was- and threw it against the wall where it smashed.

Aglaia recoiled at what appeared to a sudden burst of insanity.

"My brother? Really?" He laughed, sardonically, turning towards her. "I mean, I know your family's always suspected that he's in love with you, but I've always denied it. Sounds like a total fool, doesn't it? The king's a fool. Did Liam have a good laugh about that one?"

She stared. "Are you crazy?!" She nearly shrieked.

"Well, perhaps I am!" Robert shouted back. He grabbed something else and threw it aside. His wife just stood there, gaping aghast at him.

"Your brother? Liam?!" He stared. "In case you don't remember, he _is_ your _brother_. How on earth do you expect _us_ to-" she spluttered.

"And do you think that'll stop him?" Robert hissed, drawing closer. "After what he's done? I've told you about him and Kathryn. I've told you how he acted when I came back, and you still-" he waved his hand carelessly. "Trust him?!"

"He's your brother." Aglaia repeated. "I don't think you know this," she hissed, recovering her nerve. "But a brother going after his own brother's _wife,_ and his sister-in-law actually-" she stopped there. Liam had actually done something like this before. True, Robert hadn't been married to Kathryn Davies, but-

"But what?" Robert demanded. "Open those beautiful eyes of yours, Aglaia. _He is in love with you._ And he doesn't give a damn that we're married. He wants the throne. He wanted to be centre-stage. He wanted the limelight-"

"I am _not_ going to listen to any of this," Aglaia bit out. "He is your brother. You are both brothers, and to listen over the _two of you_ or only one fighting like cats or dogs over me or anyone and anything else is beneath you. All of you!" Her eyes flared. "You are the king. We are the royal family. And it's about time someone started acting like that within the palace."

Robert was about to say something back, but Aglaia whirled in her silk dressing gown or kimono and glided angrily away.

* * *

She couldn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it. She couldn't believe that her _husband_ didn't trust her. And Liam?! His own brother? Why on earth would he think such a thing?

It was beyond anger that she felt. But it was beyond rage which was plainly visible in Robert's eyes as he confronted her. Rage and jealousy. They'd always seek to solve their issues, and their fights as cleanly, thoroughly and quickly as possible, but this…

She wasn't sure if she could talk to him now. He was beyond reason and she was beyond pissed.

For someone who had been brought up and thrived within a close-knit, happy family, with little to no dysfunction between them, entering the world of the Henstridges was like entering alien territory. Yes, they'd been royals but the titles and status were as similar as her family had ever gotten to the Henstridges. Ever since the paternity scandal leaked out and King Simon had been murdered, there had been a general mistrust in dealing with anything or anyone associated with the Henstridges. Some fingers had pointed to Helena for her husband's murder. Others had pointed to Cyrus- who had not helped his own case when he seized the opportunity of the press attention to make an accusation and shove the woefully disastrous private family life of the Henstridge family out into the open, and the divisions within the apparently so-united family out in the public's eyes. Conspiracy theories buzzed. Was Liam a part of it? Did he do it? Did Eleanor?

When the paternity test was revealed to have been a fiasco, and rumours of corruption and bribery were evident, people started having doubts and many gave up hope on the Henstridge monarchy. That died with King Simon and Prince Robert as far as anyone was concerned. Aglaia had strived to repair the family's tarnished reputation, but the drama surrounding Robert's return hardly helped destroy the rumour mill and the excitement and whispers surrounding them. Nor did the drama during the last months and weeks of her pregnancy and the triplets' birth- and their Christening.

Had anyone felt so tired? She wondered. So weary?

Everything had been quiet for years since Veruca's disgrace and disappearance. And while she knew the press were partly right, in truth, unlike her family or any other royal house in Europe, where the stuff that surfaced on the tabloids was one-eighth or one-quarter true, and the rest were false, the British press had no idea of half the things that were going on inside the palace!

Aglaia had tried to fix it. She had tried to mend the broken and utterly destroyed family bonds that should have existed. Only for this.

* * *

Robert sighed. He sunk onto the bed and covered his face with his hands. Yes, he regretted that confrontation. He had been stupid, his blood boiling from the news, his feelings… Well, now he knew what Liam felt when he was blown about his own winds of emotion.

 _And yet I love her,_ he thought wistfully, despondently. _More than I can imagine._ _And I love_ him. _He's my brother._

He felt split down the middle. Torn. Utterly distraught half at the fact that someone else was in love with his wife and likely to try and win her heart, the other that he wanted to villainise his own brother so he could kill him.

 _What am I supposed to do?_ Robert asked himself.

 _How can I fix this?_

Liam… He couldn't think about Liam now. He would boil over in a rage over his brother and that was what _no one_ wanted.

He needed to fix this with Aglaia. Come clean. Beg her if he must.

So long as he had his family back.

* * *

Aglaia's babies were tucked in bed- toddler beds now, their mother wanted to keep them as babies but apparently, they had to grow.

And children grew fast. She understood how her parents felt.

She turned around and walked back into her bedroom. Robert's head flew up and he stood. Anguish, agony, shame, guilt and remorse were written all over his face.

Aglaia sighed. She looked up at him, pain expressed in those almond eyes, the clearest green clouded over by pain. Robert made a single stride towards her and touched her face gently, dark blue eyes piercing into the emerald.

He opened his mouth, the pain inside his eyes increased. How was he going to tell her, how was he going to say it all? Would she believe him?

Aglaia's eyes were sad, haunted and filled with infinite pain and sorrow. But she didn't pull away. He kissed her, and they held each other tight.


	19. Chapter 19

**Well, here's what happens next... And what comes after.**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I don't own _the Royals._ Duh. _E!_ does. **

* * *

**Let me not then die ingloriously and without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter.**

* * *

Robert waited until Liam had arrived.

The prince, formerly second-in-line to the throne, appeared in his rooms, unbuttoning his jacket.

"Really, Liam?" Liam spun wildly to see his older brother on the sofa, turning to face him out of the shadows.

"Robert?"

Robert stood. "My wife?" He asked slowly. "You fell in love with my _wife?"_

A shocked stunned silence, broken only by the thunder outside, and the pouring rain.

"Robert," Liam began to fervently deny this.

"Yeah, I'm not the only one who's noticed, you know. Aglaia's family sees it as well. Cyrus knows. He's been going on about that, gloating."

"No! Robert it's not what it looks like," Liam insisted.

"You sure?" Robert stepped closer. The pain in his eyes… He tried to disguise that, but it was far too obvious.

"I'd have given Kathryn up a million times over, but not Aglaia. Never Aglaia. This-" He shoved his fist up showing his wedding ring. "Is worth more to me than all the Crown Jewels or that damned chair of state. "So why don't you take that instead? It's worth quite a lot? That's what you want isn't it?" He turned his back on his brother. "Admit it."

"No that's not what I want," Liam coloured, regaining his nerve. Now Robert had baited him.

" _Enough."_ Robert spun back. "Lies. I fell in love with her. She's _my_ wife. My _queen._ The mother of my _children."_ Liam had nothing to say at this point. "The one person I truly fell in love with in my life, the only time I've _ever_ known true love, right from the start. I wanted to marry her," he said. "Even way back then! Crown be damned! She never wanted you. You've never even bothered to go to Greece beforehand, unless you wanted to lounge around Santorini brandishing your latest conquest or harlot-"

"Don't," Liam warned. "Go there."

"You didn't care." Robert said mercilessly. "You didn't give a damn. It was always about _you, you, you._ You get to do what you want. You get to make a move on just about any girl you want, go wherever _you_ like, drink and party as much as you want. I was the one who had to stay indoors, mediate between your fights, listen to Dad and Mum's constant lectures and parade myself even when you could excuse yourself from being there. I became the golden boy, Liam! Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Because _someone_ had to do it-" his colour was rising as was the volume of his voice. "And it clearly wasn't about to be you! And then finally when you decided to shape up and be a man, and not the spoiled, overgrown brat you normally were, you played the second-rate wannabe parading a new harlot for every week-" Liam lost it. He charged.

Robert easily sidestepped him and punched him in the gut. Liam had the wind knocked out of him, but he wasn't beaten. He whirled and with a roar he slammed onto Robert, only to have him hook his leg behind Liam's ankles and slam him onto the ground.

"Still think you can beat me?" Robert breathed, eyes gleaming with an unnatural, savage light. His chest was heaving, and he looked down upon his brother. "You're _nothing._ Less than nothing to her. You don't deserve her."

"You're wrong." Liam spat. "It's _you_ that doesn't deserve her. Even less than Kathryn-"

"Don't," Robert warned. "Go there. It's done. Legally done and recognised. And you wouldn't have stayed with her, anyway. Where's Willow, Liam?" Liam froze. "How about Gemma? Or Ophelia, Pryce's own daughter whom you banged the night Dad was murdered by her father?" With a shout, Liam grabbed the nearest thing next to him- a decanter and flung it at Robert who dodged it. It smashed on the opposite wall, the liquid gushing out and staining it.

"Or your many numerous girlfriends from the past?" Robert challenged. "You charge in like a comet, hard and hot, but you can't even pull the trigger to save her life. You could've pulled the trigger on Pryce in the limo. So why didn't you?"

Liam had nothing to say.

"Because you're a coward, that's what you are," Robert said with a savage satisfaction. "You wear a military uniform without even completing your training. All the medals, honours and orders Dad gave you were honorary, or given to you because you were born a member of the royal family, nothing more! It's all for show."

Liam got up and tackled Robert to the ground. This time Robert let him do it. He raised his fist about to strike, when Robert hissed. "Do it. It's worth it, believe me. For the woman we _both_ love. The one I _truly_ love. So just admit it, Liam. It's what you want isn't it? The crown? The limelight? The people's love? To make Dad and Britain proud? The glory of the Henstridge family? Well, you can have those Liam. You can even have Kathryn. Why did you have to try and take my _wife?"_ He demanded.

Robert's eyes were filled with anguish, potential heartbreak and agony. Liam stopped and stared. Was his brother holding back tears in his eyes? It was hard to tell. It was always hard to tell with Robert. And that was when Liam realised his brother had been concealing pain for a long, long time.

He slammed his fist on the floor next to Robert's head in frustration, anger at his brother and self-hatred. Releasing Robert, he instantly got up and turned around. He couldn't bear this any longer. Neither of them could bear this palace anymore.

"So what do you want, Liam?" Robert demanded. He stopped but didn't turn back. "What do you want me to give you? What more do you want from me?"

* * *

Will couldn't sleep. Or rather, he couldn't go back to sleep. He turned on his toddler bed. Finally he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

He didn't know why, but something didn't feel right. Will looked around the blue room, it's curtains shut. He got out of the bed and went to his nursery door. Where was Mummy and Daddy? They should be there with him!

Stretching on his tippy-toes, little Will reached to pull the door knob. He turned and peeked out. His blue eyes saw that the hallway was shadowed but not entirely dark.

Will couldn't sleep. He wasn't going back to bed.

He silently tip-toed down the corridors, desperate not to wake Andrew and Selena up. Andrew would be cross and kick up a fuss. Selena would be upset and he didn't want that.

He turned around a corner, peeking silently around. Before he finally spotted an open door. Delight and anticipation filled him: perhaps there was somebody there! Maybe it was Mummy or Daddy! Will slipped into the room excitedly.

But to his grave disappointment, he found nothing. The thunder and lightning had subsided but the rain was still there, pattering on the window panes of this room, the moonlight shining in and making the sheers look ghostly. But somebody was there.

Will didn't know how he missed him, but this man blended into the room with its gilt floors and richly panelled gold-leaf walls. The crystal chandelier wasn't lit up ahead, but he could see clearly.

The man was facing the window. He wore a military uniform like Uncle Liam would wear, black with gold braid and embroidery at the cuffs. Only this time, it wasn't Uncle Liam. A splash of colourful medallions decorated his chest, and a ceremonial sword hung at his hip, his gloved hand resting upon the hilt.

Will blinked. The man was gone. But where did he go? Will wanted a closer look. His shoulders slumped and the little prince looked down.

Suddenly he looked up. The man was there again, this time staring down at him.

They both stared at each other.

Finally, Will found his voice. "Hello." He said.

To his surprise, the man smiled, filled with genuine warmth. "Hello."

"I'm Will." He said.

"Hello Will. What are you doing here, so late?"

Will shrugged helplessly. "Couldn't sleep. Wanted to find Mummy or Daddy."

The man knelt. "I'm sorry to hear that.

"How old are you, Will?"

"Six!" Will said proudly, holding up his fingers to show the number six.

The man laughed quietly. He had grey hair, and very kind blue eyes. Will realised it was the same colour as his dad and uncle, but Daddy's eyes were darker, and Uncle Liam's was paler, Auntie Len had green-brown eyes, and Granny had stormy grey-blue eyes, and Mummy's was green like Selena. But Will's eyes were blue that was not as dark as daddy but not as light as Uncle Liam's.

The exact same eyes as this man.

"And you've started school?" Will nodded eagerly.

"Mummy helped me with my homework tonight," he said happily. "I learnt English, how to find _vo-wuls,"_ he stumbled across the word but made it. "And she taught us how to read the poem about a cat and clocks. Daddy helped 'Lena draw flower and read us a story at bedtime."

"Oh really? And your mummy and daddy? What're their names?"

"Daddy is," his face scrunched up adorably. "Robert. That's he wants a lot of people to call him, but they say his name is-" Deep breath. "His Ma-jes-ty, King Robert Henstridge of the U-ni-ted King-dom." He frowned. "I think I got that right."

The man was motionless. "And your mummy?"

Will straightened proudly. "Mummy's name is Aglaia. A-guh-lay-a. Sometimes, Daddy calls her Laia to the other grownups and she calls him Robbie, like Auntie Len does. _Her_ name's Eleanor. Granny said that Mummy was a princess of Greece, and my _Pappoús_ is king there. But daddy loved Mummy and married her so she became his queen. And then they had me, Andrew and Selena."

The man was silent. "I see." He said after a while. "And do you love your mummy and daddy?" Will nodded eagerly.

"Do they love you?" "Yup," he said happily. "They say so e-ver-ey day."

"That's good. Do they play with you?"

"Yup. We have a cottage in a garden, and Mummy and Daddy teaches us to grow veg-tuh-buhls, and fruit, and Mummy sometimes helps us cook. Daddy looks at e-bery veg-tuh-bel we grow and if they good, he give us money- to spend, Mummy says." He grinned. "Daddy and Mummy also take us riding. And sailing- sailing with _Pappoús_ in Athens. And Theo 'Lexios and Theo Dimitri. Mummy teaches us Scottish Gah-lic. And Welsh. So we can learn to be like them." He announced, pleased.

"That sounds wonderful," the man said softly. "Well Will, it sounds like your mummy and daddy loves you very much." Will nodded. The man straightened.

"You'll make a great king." He murmured. He kissed the boy on the forehead. "I know you will. Never forget, I'm always here, when you need me."

Will looked up but saw… Nothing. Only a portrait. It was a portrait of a man with grey hair and eyes like him, dressed in a scarlet tunic with an ermine-trimmed velvet robe across his shoulders, carrying a staff.

Will blinked and was sure it was… But it was too dark and he was getting sleepy. He decided to leave the room.

Beneath the portrait, the plaque read:

'King Simon Henstridge of the United Kingdom' the dates of his birth and death, and the years of his reign were italicised beneath.

* * *

Robert had been prepared to apologise to Aglaia, heck he'd even been prepared to forgive Liam as it was obvious there had _not_ been an affair. But there was still something wrong.

After a night of passion with his wife, he'd expected to be spent, relaxed and deliciously sated- and he was- but something kept him up. He made sure that Aglaia was sound asleep though.

In the morning, he got up same as always on the crack of dawn (or even earlier) and looked out the window.

Outside everyone was getting ready. The children were still in bed, and soon it would be time to wake them up and take them to school.

Aglaia stirred, eyes still closed. He went over and kissed her on the side of her cheek. She smiled, and he kissed her neck.

"Morning love," he murmured.

"Morning," she murmured in reply. Wrapping the sheets about her, she got up. Concealing his hunger and longing for her, Robert turned around, knowing full well he could lose all self-control. "It's Monday. The start of a new week."

"And people normally hate Mondays," Robert smiled. "But for me, it's the start of something new and wonderful."

Aglaia smiled, blissfully unaware of what happened the night before.

* * *

Outside, Liam walked. He had been pacing, but careful not to make Robert spot him.

Every morning it was like this. Falling deeper and more madly in love with Aglaia…

He felt a squirm of guilt. He couldn't help it, he didn't mean to… But he did. He fell in love with her, but he never made a move. Could Robert blame him, then? He felt the same way.

Liam didn't know why he and Robert kept going after the same girls. Nor did he know why Robert was always the luckier one in this regard.

Maybe because there was something wrong with him? After all, he can't be that bad a match, could he? He was just…

He didn't have a good reputation. The first relationship he wanted to get serious with was Ophelia and in the end, she was sick of it. She couldn't handle it, and didn't think he wanted it. He was too rash, too hot-headed. He pushed too far. But he couldn't help it.

Any more than he could help falling deeply in love. He gazed up to their bedroom window. Creepy, stalkerish, he knew. Pathetic too.

But he couldn't help it. And besides, this was the closest he could ever get to her.

Soon enough Aglaia looked out the window, clad in her silk dressing gown or kimono. Her green eyes, so luminously clear, was piercing. Liam stared despondent and forlorn. This hurt. This hurt everyone, and he realised only now, did it strike him.

He had to stop. But he couldn't stop for as long as he was there. Liam looked away. It was a good thing too because Robert came up to Aglaia and embraced her from behind.

* * *

The kids had their breakfast, prepared by their mother. Will, Andrew and Selena were chatting happily to one another as they ate, and their mother often had to make sure they did eat and quickly too.

"Well, here's Andrew's lunch," Robert said. "And Selena- the one without mayonnaise." Aglaia told him. Selena hated that. He helped pack their bags. "Can you get the fruits, please?" He fetched some apple slices from the fridge and she distributed them in boxes whilst Robbie filled their water bottles.

It was a happy domestic scene. "Have you all got your homework?" They nodded. "Check again," she advised once they'd finished eating.

Once they'd finished eating, Robert had to be off, but she was the one who took them to school. The windows were tinted black and she didn't want to disrupt anyone by stepping out, even if school hadn't started yet. Instead the kids kissed her and they happily skipped out of the car.

"They grow so fast," she murmured. Her driver smiled. "Kids always do," he said wistfully. "I remember when mine first started school."

"How is she?" Aglaia asked. "She's getting married soon."

"Well, isn't that amazing," she remarked, smiling.

As soon as they got back, her day was the same. But then amidst all the craziness of her schedule, she found a moment.

Aglaia was having a break, walking through the gardens, when she spotted Liam. "Liam," she called out excitedly.

Liam forced a smile. He waved back, trying to ignore the way his heart leapt when she waved at and called out his name.

He went over to her. "What're you up to today?" She asked.

"Not much, but…" He paused. "I've decided to go back to leave." She stared.

"Leave?" She sounded aghast. "Where?"

"Travel. Len's found her true love, her calling, her purpose in life. Now I need to find mine."

"But where will you go?"

Liam shrugged. "I'll have to start somewhere. Probably Germany. I heard it's a nice place." He sighed. "I think a change of scenery works for me. Maybe I'll go back to university, or military academy. But I'm not going on vacation. I have to leave and find something to do with my life."

And get away from all this, including Robert and her, he thought.

"But Liam," she said quietly. "Are you sure?"

Liam nodded. "Positive." He needed an outlet, and if military was it… There were only so much underground fight clubs. "You want to become a soldier?"

"Or an athlete. Or a university student. Or a professor. Anything. But I can't stay here. It's like you've said, this is a new era, for a new monarchy. I need to fulfil my part in this family. I can't hang around here anymore. Especially not now, when there's Robert on the throne and Will's going to take over someday. And there's Andrew and Selena besides, and Len whose always busy now, starting her new fashion label, and Jasper. I'll come back to visit from time to time, like Christmases, and the children's birthdays. But I can't stay here forever."

"You'll come back?: She asked, tentatively. Liam nodded. "Alright then. So long as you visit and look after yourself... And call us often..."

He nodded again. She suddenly embraced him, her arms around him. "Just take care. Promise me, Liam."

Liam promised.

He needed to go. He knew that. He couldn't stand it there. He failed the first time as a cadet, but now… Now he was a different man. He had to be.

"Please take look after yourself," Aglaia whispered. Liam hugged her tightly. "Promise me, Liam."

 _Promise me, Liam._ Those words were something he would cling to. He needed to look for a purpose in life. And move away from all this... Mess.

It wasn't just an escape. He needed something in his life.

* * *

The Valentine's Day dinner was spectacular. Aglaia couldn't help smiling. Her heart ached for poor Liam and her prayers went with him, hoping he would be safe wherever he went and find whatever he was looking for. It was high time Liam had some _real_ happiness in his life. Same with Eleanor.

The food was certainly excellent: little sugared cedar flowers, and tiny mandarin orange slices boiled in honey. Abd then spit-roasted chicken basted in oil and plum wine sauce, garnished with candied pine nuts, cinnamon. And the oysters sautéed in olive oil and butter, squeezed with a bit of orange and thyme. And the finely grilled perch fillets with a simmered sauce of rose wine, salmon roe and truffle shavings and oil…

Aglaia remembered to thank a certain chef who lived in Athens but was half-Cretan, half-Italian and taught her how to cook. That way, she could prepare all this for her husband. Queen Helena and Spencer, her Lord Chamberlain were having a private meal, same with Eleanor and Jasper. So, she and Robert were by themselves as well.

"I've missed you," she said smiling. Robert flashed a dazzling smile at her. "And I've missed you." He leaned forwards to kiss her.

"You've been so busy," Aglaia chuckled. Her dazzling emerald eyes were filled with love- and something mischievous, like a secret they both shared. "I've had to prepare this Valentine's dinner quite alone."

"Sorry," Robert apologised. "The last two weeks have been agonising."

And they were. Separated from each other, Aglaia stayed up in Windsor Castle, while Robert had been undergoing important Climate Change matters in Brazil. Aglaia knew the babies- she should really stop calling them that now, but couldn't- needed her home with them. So, they'd gone up to Scotland for a change, staying in Holyrood House. Aglaia liked playing with the children, teaching them to swim in a loch, how to paint with a brush or their fingers. They'd moved into an abandoned cottage in the grounds, swept the floors, opened the windows to let some air in, cleaning the fireplace, getting rid of the spiders and the webs, and the dust. She taught them how to cook, the way she'd been taught, to make chocolate caramels, treacle tarts, fudge brownies, and various things.

She liked being ordinary. But she wasn't. So, she settled for a reprieve. If only her husband could remain.

Robert had opened the champagne bottle. The pink, sparkling liquid filled their flutes.

"I thought you'd have gone to visit your brother first." Aglaia said conversationally. Really, she was testing the waters for danger. Or any sign of anything… Unusual.

While Liam was due to explore the world, and find himself during the process, to do so suddenly… Especially after both she and her husband had had a fight over whether Liam was in love with her… She didn't want to believe it, but she knew that something was up.

She wasn't as naïve as people thought.

Robert stiffened involuntarily. "He seemed happy and eager enough to get away."

 _What's that supposed to mean?_ Right after celebrating their family Christmas at Windsor, Liam had packed his bags and left.

She loved Robert, but she would be a fool to not believe that he had had something to do with that. Maybe not directly, knowing him and his brother, but… Definitely, he had been involved.

 _I wonder if this is a sign for my family and Helena to insist on kicking Cyrus out…_

"Besides, he's gone to Nepal." Robert continued. "He's decided to try his hand at mountain-climbing."

Aglaia nodded. Yes, he'd told them. "Well, you never know," she said. "I just hope there aren't any storms when he climbs Mount Everest- and puts the Union Flag on top. Or would it be the royal standard?" She mused.

Liam the first prince ever to climb that mountain. She'd suggested Olympus but her brothers had done that instead.

Robert looked strained, and his eyes… Dark. Upset. His hand clenched into a fist on the table top.

Aglaia wisely decided to change the subject. "I've been trying to teach your mother how to cook," she said, conspiratorially. "She surprised me with that request," she noted when Robert looked baffled. "We tried… Well, I'm not going to mention what happened on her first try. But she did well, for someone who's never cooked in her life."

Robert blinked. "I can't believe she even tried. You know, the first Christmas without Dad…" He shook his head.

"You keep talking about that," Aglaia laughed. "Honestly, how bad could it have been?"

He made a mock-grimace. His dark mood forgotten. "It was worse. Don't even get me started on how long it took to find the cutlery and place-settings for the table."

"Now that explains why I had to ask the staff to rearrange and bring everything to where they could be easily accessed, even by me." Aglaia muttered. "And the tablecloths too. Seriously? They looked ancient and not in a good way."

Robert couldn't disagree. "Well, we're more thankful than you could imagine." He said giving her a look. "Dad always used to give the staff a day off at Christmas. But we'd needed weeks or months of preparation beforehand."

"Wow." Aglaia breathed out a sigh. "We've always made Christmas dinner by ourselves." She smiled fondly as happy memories took over the forefront of her mind. "At one point, my father and brothers built a tree house and I insisted on having Christmas dinner there!"

Robert smiled, but watched her sadly. She immediately felt bad. She knew that Robbie did not have the same childhood and happy memories as she did.

But why? King Simon was a much-loved figure, as a king, a friend and a father. She didn't understand why his family were so spectacularly unhappy, why their lives were so turbulent.

"What was he like?" She asked softly.

"Who?"

"Your father."

Robert paused in silence for a moment. "He was… Unique. Fair. Very kind and understanding. Compassionate. When Leni had one of her bad days, he may be upset, but he always forgave her and welcomed her with open arms. Always encouraged her to believe in herself, always tried to be there for us." He fell silent again. "He did that all our lives."

Aglaia was silent too. Yes, he _was_ a loving father. That much couldn't be disputed. Even so, she could easily guess that things hadn't been right in their youths. Robert, Liam and Eleanor had been cooped up in gilded Blenheim Palace all their lives (even though there were a few other royal residences). Their education revolved around the royal lifestyles. They were stuffed into fancy clothes at a young age, and sternly told to greet everyone nicely and politely. They were ordered to sit or stand straight, to look impeccable. To do this, to be that. And while Robert was immediately trained and geared up to be the next monarch, groomed to sit upon the throne by both his parents, his siblings had been neglected. She suspected that the only attention Helena ever gave to them, was in telling them off for sneaking out and partying or drinking. Hardly any approval or warmth from their mother. She'd seen it in children who'd been shipped off to boarding schools, and resorted to partying, drinking, truancy and even petty theft and brawls, anything to get their parents' attention, even a negative one. Teenage rebellions blown out of proportion.

They'd never had the proper guidance and praise to build up their self-esteem and self-confidence. Never had a strong family to go back to whenever they landed in trouble. Their parents expected the best from them, but the only praise Robert received was when he acted like an adult in his tender years, when he acted the way his father and mother _needed_ him- as a future king- to be. And Aglaia was struck by the realisation of how terrible it must've been for them. Their personalities, unlike hers which was encouraged, were suppressed. They were told to be this and that. To say this not that. To behave accordingly. To be like their father and mother. Robert had no room and no time for rebellion. Liam and Eleanor were neglected in their grooming and education (which was why Liam was so hugely unprepared after Robert's 'death'). They found escape and took out their frustrations and hurts the only way their peers knew: drinking, partying and sex. Why not?

"I only met him once when I was a young girl," Aglaia said softly. She smiled. "He was wonderful." Robert blinked. "No way, was I with him?"

She laughed. "You supposedly were, but I didn't see you." He cursed, shaking his head. Her laughter increased. "Some old… Ministers and diplomats had taken a hold of you, and your mother… Was trading barbs with my mother. Even then, my mother and yours…" She winced. "Well, they didn't get along. Apparently, it was something to do with a previous meeting in Denmark."

Helena and Anastasia had met during their younger years. Back when her mother was still a princess of Denmark, the old king of Denmark's niece (an accident killed that uncle and with no children, the throne passed to Aglaia's maternal grandfather). But Anastasia was a beauty but she was shy and unassuming. She felt awkward, even having grown up in a royal palace. Helena had shone, and poked fun at Anastasia behind her back, not understanding and mocking her awkwardness. The 'friends' of her mother, who were actually happy to cozen up to the princess because of her status, all turned their attention towards Helena, and laughed when she made fun of Anastasia in that shallow, uncaring, thoughtless way, rich, teenage queen bees did.

Her uncle Valdemar had told her all about it: Anastasia had had her revenge- by hanging a bucket that splashed luridly-coloured dye onto an unsuspecting Helena. She'd screamed, thrown a tantrum and the pictures went viral. Helena had done her best to bully Anastasia, then named Ingrid (she was renamed Anastasia when she converted to Greek Orthodoxy), and her mother took barbs whenever she could. When Helena had married, she mocked Anastasia for marrying a prince who was simply the king's nephew, whereas she was a future queen. Big surprise. Guess whose marriage was worth it in the end, crown or no crown? It turns out, Aglaia's mother had the last laugh in the end.

Aglaia tried to turn her thoughts away from the subject. "Anyway, why you were all held up, I think I must've sneaked off. Gone swimming, no doubt. Or riding. I came back, and there was your dad. I was mortified, well horrified would be a better word. Terrified that someone would hear about this and your dad would take offence. But-" she laughed. "He'd told my father: 'She's growing into a beauty, this one. Better look out.' And my father said: 'Not for a long, long time, I hope.'" She then smiled. "Your father then said something I still can't quite believe."

"What? What did he say?"

"He said: 'Well, I'll think she'll be a great woman and someday a very great man will be worthy of her heart.'" She smiled. "It was prophetic," she teased him.

Robert couldn't help but blink. "He said that?" He sounded astonished.

She shrugged. "Ask my father if you don't believe me."

"Oh, I believe you," Robert shook his head. "It's just that… Dad doesn't give out compliments so easily." His eyes were far away. "Certainly not to me. He would've loved you."

That wasn't the first time she had heard that.

Aglaia sighed as she cleared the dishes. Or rather, her husband insisted on doing it for her. They'd cleaned up, set everything back to the way it was, and headed off to bed. Maintaining her marriage whilst simultaneously raising three small children and being a queen and a princess was harder than it looked.

She was exhausted. But Robbie would no doubt keep her awake for some time.

Aglaia wanted to check on the triplets. They'd done their homework, had their dinner early, had some free time, bathed, brushed their teeth and were now sound asleep in bed after Robbie read them a story and tucked them in. Not a single peep, she thought. Only the glow of nightlights to give them comfort.

Just as she was heading back to their room, something made her stop and freeze.

A door was open. Moonlight streamed in. She blinked. Who left it open? Who was in there?

Aglaia cautiously made her way forwards. Something inside her froze. Years of going without seeing those sugar-roses or those blue flowers tied to a bracelet, which had been gifts from… Him when he had been alive…

 _No,_ she thought fearfully. _Surely not._

Not again. Especially since they had found nothing.

She gently pushed the door open, ice flooding her heart and hands shaking.

Inside was a man dressed in a ceremonial military uniform. He had a splash of medallions, honours and orders arrayed upon his jacket, gold braid and epaulets. A ceremonial sword hung at his hip. His hair was grey.

Aglaia drew in a breath. He looked at her straight in the eye, his eyes were blue. He smiled, a warm, happy, caring smile as she had ever seen, with utter gladness and welcome. Then she blinked and he vanished.

* * *

"Almost there," the training instructor called.

The man- a New Zealander or a Kiwi, as they referred to themselves (after their native bird, not the fruit), grinned with the thumbs up as Liam slowly and carefully climbed up the ladder, training for the ultimate climb to Mount Everest.

The guy, named Mike, was an easy-going, friendly, genial guy who was very helpful and patient. He encouraged Liam as he climbed up the ladder in those monstrous-looking boots. They had spikes at the soles and seriously, he hoped he never stepped on anyone's toes. He could tell the other, less-experienced members of the team were edgy about hovering near anyone in case they bumped and tread on people's feet.

He was trying not to look down. Below was a long-drop. Literally. Between two menacing-looking icy cliffs laden with heavy snow, was a drop so _big,_ so _deep_ and so _dark,_ there was no possible way to see the bottom. There was no way he would survive if he fell, but he had ropes tied about him.

Suddenly Liam's hand slipped. The ladder rung was covered with a thin layer of ice. He gasped, and people squawked in shock from both sides. "It's okay!" He heard Mike yelling ahead of him. "Just… Take a moment. Have a deep breath."

He wondered what the tabloids would say about these guys if he ever died on Everest. He hoped no one would be hard on them.

 _It's okay,_ he imagined Aglaia's voice saying gently to him. Coaxing him forwards. _Just calm down and take a deep breath. That's it. Come on now, go slowly, there's no need to rush. Just… Follow my voice._

Was she really far away, in England? She seemed so close.

Liam could picture her emerald eyes, that pure, innocent smile, that serene expression on her face. Her delicate hand, held out towards him, the warmth of her touch… Just gently pulling him forwards.

Liam climbed the rungs. He was at the other side before he knew it.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and some whooped. But Liam knew that although he had meant to distance himself as much as he could, from his brother's wife, instead…

He had brought himself closer.

* * *

The children were laughing. They kicked and splashed in the shallows of the loch. It wasn't the open sea, but goodness, it was nearly as wonderful. They shrieked and giggled excitedly.

Aglaia sat on the rock, her husband holding her close. They kept a close eye on the triplets in case they wandered too far, or hurt themselves. They had taught them to build sandcastles back in Crete, and the whole family came together to sail…

Aglaia's eyes misted. Robbie pressed a kiss on the top of her head. This was undoubtedly the moment when she realised just how blessed she was. Her small children playing in the shallows of the water, her husband holding her close… How luckier could she get?

"It's not the sea, but it's wonderful," Robert admitted. "I can't believe I spent my entire life, cooped up in that palace down south, and never really seeing any of it- the beauty of it all… Until you arrived."

He had remembered joking with his dad and telling Liam that they only kept Scotland in the kingdom because of their Scotch. How foolish he was, he reflected. How was it that he only ever started appreciating things when his wife arrived? Not luxuries but… This. So much more.

The sun was close to setting, and the children showed no indication of wanting to go back.

"I wish we could stay here," he admitted. "Just us. No politics, no glamourous parties… Nothing."

Aglaia smiled wistfully. "If only. The joys of being ordinary as compared to the pressures of being extraordinary…" They chuckled.

Selena shrieked and giggled as Andrew chased her around with a knot of lake weed. Will splashed his brother, soaking him even more than before, and the latter retaliated by tackling him in the shallows. Huge sprays of water went flying everywhere.

"I didn't swim in a loch until my military training required we practice diving," Robert confessed. "It was always a pool- or the sea in Monaco."

Aglaia sighed. "Perhaps it should be a while before we take the children to somewhere expensive," she suggested.

The children had already learnt to make their own beds. They were taught to be thrifty. The money they'd been given by their parents whenever they served tea and pastries to guests or on inspections when their home-grown fruits and vegetables were good enough, were all they received. If they weren't able to serve anything to any guests, or grow their own fruits and vegetables because they were absent, they would rely on basic pocket money, the amount depending on how well they've done their chores around their quarters. If they wanted or needed something extra, they had to buy it, and save if necessary. She only indulged them on birthdays and Christmases. They were taught to be respectful to grown-ups, polite to make their own minds about things (not something that was encouraged in the previous generation), but to keep their opinions to themselves. Still, it was a long way to go to learning and practising royal protocol, and their mother worried about exposure to the wealth and decadence of the upper classes, like billionaires, successful models and singers and aristocrats, would do to them. Would it turn them like Eleanor and Liam?

Influence them? Encourage them to think bad behaviour was okay? She didn't know. But she preferred not to have them influenced by wealth. Not like Liam's horrid ex-girlfriend Gemma whom she'd encountered whilst on an outing with Len. The girl had instantly reappeared in Liam's life right after the news of Robbie's supposed death, hung around flaunting herself and her status as a diamond heiress, acting snobbish and slutty in short, short skirts, diamonds and stilettoes. Then she'd vanished right after Cyrus dropped the bombshell beginning the paternity fiasco. She'd been friends with the twins for quite some time before all that drama, Len told her. She didn't want her children hanging around with people like _those,_ Aglaia decided. Len agreed.

"I worry about them, just as I worry about you, every single day. But there's only so much you can do," she murmured. "My brother and his twins... You should see them. And Dimitri..." She paused.

Aglaia had long-since wondered if Dimitri intended to take it a step further with Willow. She couldn't blame him. She was a genuinely sweet and loving person.

Another topic that grated her but with what she somehow sensed would be a bad idea to bring up, especially now, was Liam. He was climbing Mount Everest, or at least training to do so. But why all of a suddden, he wanted to go?

Something was up. Aglaia knew these past few years had been too quiet. The children grew from babies to toddlers and had now started school. All these years, Liam had played the cheerful, loving uncle (as far from Cyrus had been to him, she had no doubt). He played with them, they ran, happy to see him when he walked into the room. He was never too tired to play games with them or read them stories or answer any questions they gave him. He quieted their fears, listened to their insecurities, just as she did. And she found that amazing.

Liam deserved happiness, she decided. It was high time. She didn't care what he did in the past, his wild youth. Liam deserved some happiness and a purpose in life. Everyone does.

Another thing which astonished her- the ghost. It had been years since she saw _his_ ghost. She'd almost forgotten. But King Simon's? If it was him, she did not expect to see him at all. He deserved peace.

What was going on? She wondered. What was in the House of Henstridge that could not be fixed?

If only she knew.

* * *

 **Update: 2/11/2017: Posted an update. I felt like the development and the time gap was _too_ fast this time. It was necessary, but too fast. The triplets are still young at this stage.**


	20. Chapter 20

**If love be blind, it best agrees with night.**

 _'I remembered how she was, how beautiful she was, how her beauty drew the masses, her genuineness, her serene presence, her charm- and how magnetic and totally captivating she truly was an it wasn't just her beauty... When she spoke it seemed like you were the only person in the world who mattered to her at that time. She was the biggest catch in Europe, the most eligible and beautiful princess, the most charming and charismatic... And she fell into the hands of a family of jackals who all wished to tear her apart- the girl whom no one could stop raving for, who we all said the most wonderful things about. Of course I fell in love with her. I don't think there was any man, woman or child who could resist her. I thought, one day, I would marry her.'_ Prince Daniel of Luxembourg on Aglaia, Princess of Greece and Denmark, Queen of the United Kingdom.

 _'I never understood it. Why she chose him!_ Why?! _That family was going to be the death of her. They were going to kill her- to slaughter her alive! The Henstridges were poison and she willingly fell into his trap- like a fly in a Venus flytrap! They were going to kill her- if they couldn't corrupt her, they were going to kill her! Tear her apart like mad dogs on heat! I always thought he was the best out of a rotten bunch, him and his father, but when they announced their marriage... I was tearing my hair out, more than tempted to jump on a plane and break into the Abbey, screaming to stop her...'_ Prince Guillame of Monaco.

* * *

Aglaia stared at the television. That was Prince Daniel of Luxembourg. He was in his country's armed forces.

She'd had a major crush on him when she was a teenager, and even after. But it wasn't realistic. Daniel? Did he even have feelings for her?

Of course, there was the prince of Sweden, but she couldn't even remember which prince he was... Daniel had been someone she blushed to be around, someone to start her heart pounding rapidly.

So what happened? She wasn't so sure. After two failed relationships, she wasn't eager to fly into a third. She was fearful.

She started from her thoughts when Robert entered the room.

"Hey," he greeted. Aglaia gave him a mechanical smile, desperately wishing she'd changed the channel when she had the time. Sadly, it was too late. He surprised her.

Robert bent down to give her a kiss. "What's this?" He asked, gesturing to the television.

"News from around the world. The EU forces are gathering their power."

"Yeah, it's what my mates in the SAS have been raving about." Robert muttered.

"Prince Daniel of Luxembourg is apparently joining in. Well, Alexios won't be alone."

"I didn't doubt that," Robert muttered. "Sometimes, if I weren't king..." His expression turned wistful. Aglaia touched his hand.

"Are the children in bed?" She asked. Robbie nodded. Aglaia turned the telly off.

No, she still didn't have feelings for the Luxembourgan prince. But if Robert were to find out... Well, based on how he reacted to the presence of Leonidas Dimitriou, an actual ex of hers, she didn't want to think about it.

Yes, she was aware that Robert was not perfect. He wasn't the golden prince, the Once and Future King Arthur reborn the way the public perceived him. The fairytale Prince Charming (though he _was_ a prince once, and he _was_ charming when he wanted to be). But what could she do? She loved him. He loved her. Their marriage thrived, as did their love. They raised a happy, healthy brood of children together. They rebuilt their country and their family's image with one another.

This was true love. And if love was blind... So be it. Maybe it was foolish of her to close her eyes and look the other way, but she had no unpleasant surprises (no truly major ones anyway- or so she insisted). Love could come in many forms. There were women and men, who married Death Row inmates or prisoners serving life sentences. There were those who gave up lives in prosperous cities, forsaking urban luxuries for the harshness of tribal life in the barren desert or oasis, or the rural countryside a world away. Those who only knew one another online. How often did they last?

None. But she had no regrets and no doubts about Robert. She loved him. She truly and deeply loved him. And she knew he felt the same way. He never mistreated her, the only thing was... How far was he willing to go to keep them together? She didn't know. But she didn't think that those were the things a king should be doing, or anyone else for that matter.

She never deluded herself in the belief that Robert could easily stop- and she wasn't arrogant enough to think that she could make him stop and that was all he needed. The Henstridges were on a continuous self-destruct mode and Robert- for all his reputation- was no exception. But she could turn his mind away from that path. Robert wasn't evil, he was in a really dark place, and often... All he needed was love, compassion and understanding. He had always had people leaning on _him,_ looking to him for support, leadership and guidance. He never had any for himself, the pressure was enormous. And when Simon, his own father said he wasn't good enough for the throne... Well, it took a lot for Robert to admit that to her. His pain, his anguish, his insecurities he felt so pressured to hide. He was never, at any point in his life, ever allowed to be himself. The approval anyone ever gave him was not because he was Robert Henstridge, as in just Robert or Robbie, but as His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales or the King of the United Kingdom. Even his parents gave their approval and pride based on that: the image they wanted or needed him to portray, the picture-perfect image of a golden son they wanted. And for a while, Robert believed he could only be that and nothing else. That was why he had been so distraught at the idea that that might've been taken from him- it was all he had. He had nothing else. He wasn't allowed to explore and discover his own personality and limits. He had to be this and that.

But now he had. He was a good person. He was just suffering and in pain. And it was that which showed to her that he needed her above all others.

Aglaia forced a smile. No ghost was going to tear her from her husband and children.

* * *

"Almost there!" Someone yelled.

Prince Liam of the United Kingdom- the Explorer Prince as he was now known- was sailing the Amazon River.

The camera crew were huddled together. They were buried under layers of rain ponchos and jackets, and insect repellant. Liam was the only one who was relaxed. He was at ease, breathing calmly and deeply. It was the dead of night and everything was pitch black save for a small torch- but they didn't want to attract wild animals, so he put it low.

"There." He pointed. "A caiman." A reptilian eye blinked, the scaled head and snout hidden under a pile of weeds, before it slunk back further into the murky water.

They'd spotted green anacondas and were filmed with them, he was photographed holding _gigantic_ arapaima (a species of carnivorous fish so massive it was bigger than a kayak, encased in armoured scales), feeding bull sharks and black caimans, barely escaping nasty pirranha and vampire fish (no joke, google it online). And so far, Liam had survived.

He had his own TV show now. And a purpose in life. Exploring, discovering new heights. He'd been the first British prince to climb Mount Everest. He'd dove across the Atlantic, sailed the Horn of Africa where he nearly got captured by pirates filming them in his TV show (Robert was furious, and warned him not to take any unecessary risks ever again). Explored the dense jungles of the congo and Angkor Wat, trekked Machu Pichu, and explored the Sahara Desert with the Bedouin tribes. Basically set about gaining some respect for himself, rather than for his royal titles, indirectly and involuntarily remodelling the image of the Henstridge family. He'd been in Antartica, and he was wondering if he should be an astronaut next if he ran out of places to go and film.

And he still thought about her, Aglaia. It wasn't helped that he still came home for Christmases, Easters and birthdays. But it was a fading memory. An infatuation. A deep and obsessive crush.

Liam had grown up. He still loved her, he still had feelings for her, but it wasn't the same. She was Robert's, he'd accepted that. He didn't fight it the way he used to, he didn't have to fight himself anymore.

He'd grown up. At nights when the TV crew had gone to bed, he took out the picture of Aglaia he still had with him, stroked it and stared at it for a long time, and the ones of his nephews and niece before he went to sleep.

And he was wondering when he and Robert would have a talk.

It was going to be so awkward. They had really damaged their relationship. Could things really be the same?

Was it time for him to head home?

* * *

Years passed. The United Kingdom prospered. Everything went on a 'boom'. Well, a baby boom, maybe not so much. But the economy thrived, as did the environment, the free housing and low employment levels, the quality of life in the UK, and the relationship they had with the Commonwealth countries, and other nations.

The marriage and the renewal of the image of the Henstridge family spearheaded by King Robert and Queen Aglaia was a success, it relationship between Dimitri and Willow did not work out, instead, the two of them became genuine, close friends.

Dimitri married a while back, to a lovely young lady from Cythera. And she truly was lovely, and not just physically. Their marriage seemed to be and Eleanor were engaged. Surprise, surprise. Of course, the public whispered excitedly about that. No this year's beginning concluded officially, with the state opening of parliament…

And something else Queen Mother of Swaziland was dead.

Veruca watched silently. She was gone. Soon, her greatest enemy, Aglaia would be too. And she would wear Britain's crown.

In hindsight it wasn't just stupid, but scandalous. Now Penelope and Maribel would never wear Britain's crown. They'd already given up their rights in the succession. But she would wear 's son was now 'officially' grown. He could be king of Swaziland. The queen mother was dead and they would have to choose a successor soon. She would make sure of that. Then finally, she could take her revenge on the Greek harlot.

* * *

Big Ben chimed loud enough for London (and the whole world) to hear.

Aglaia had a guilty secret: she loathed carriage rides with such a vehement passion that she would sooner walk thousands of miles and swim across the channel back and forth repeatedly, climb Mount Everest and more than take a single state carriage from Buckingham Palace all the way to the Palace of Westminster.

In Greece, her excuse was that royalty didn't start going in horse-drawn carriages until the eighteenth century. It just wasn't Greek. They weren't French, British, Austrian, German or anything else. The Greeks were not known for their powdered wigs, luminous silk pantaloons or culottes and silk stockings. Nor did they go around in carriages drawn by horses. Her father had seen the point and laughed.

But now that she was queen of Britain… _Why?_ She moaned silently to herself. _Why me? Why this?_

Oh yes, that's right. Because she fell in love with a man who just so happened to be king of the United Kingdom. Making her his queen consort and the mother of his heirs. Which meant that she was obliged to go around in a gigantic, gilded… Thing with bewigged footmen in bullion, mounted riders in mirror-shine breastplates and caps like broom-brushes and Grenadier guards in their bearskins lining every nine paces or so along the road. And people gawking and cheering at the sight of her like she was the turkey or pudding wheeled out at Christmas for them to eat. Or some exotic animal from Mars.

She did not feel like a queen, much less a princess in this awful, claustrophobic, horrid, ghastly thing. Aglaia knew she likely looked pinched and pale, her expression strained as she tried to force a smile, and the only thing that kept her alive was Robert's other hand (not the one he used for waving) gently pressing down on hers. Aglaia managed a smile and waved to the crowds, unable to speak, praying silently to God that this would be over soon and they would arrive. The weather was fine today, but she could not bring herself to enjoy it whilst in the… she mention it was very claustrophobic? She had never had claustrophobia not until she had her very first carriage ride. But even if it was an open carriage…No, she didn't want to think about it. She was sure she would faint before they even arrived.

This was the State Opening of Parliament, and Robbie had to deliver his speech of the MPs and the nation, broadcast from the House of Lords, most of the peers had already gone to their seats, dressed in their parliamentary robes (they weren't allowed inside if they weren't).

The Yeomen of the Guards, in their brightly decorated scarlet tunics, Elizabethan neck ruffs, black hats and traditional pikes, marched to the royal gallery to provide a guard of honour for the king. The detachment of the household cavalry was already standing at attention in the royal staircase, in their mirror-shine cuirasses, epaulets, helmets and traditional swords resting on their shoulders.

The yeomen were standing but the military representatives and diplomats were sitting, awaiting the royal carriage to arrive at the Sovereign's Entrance, but the Imperial State Crown, which Robert would wear once he had arrived, was being escorted in another carriage before them. The crown was transported with as much ceremony at the regalia room and then at the royal gallery.

Sir Mark Andrews, who was in charge of royal ceremonies, carefully carried the crown on a purple cushion glittering in its diamonds and sapphires, escorted by guardsmen, ceremoniously carried it for cameras to watch followed by the great sword of state (recovered from Cyrus who threatened to use it on Helena after the Violet fiasco) and finally, the king and queen knew by memorising every detail of the ceremony (yes, she was required to do that), that the heralds responsible for heralding at every part of the United Kingdom, lining the royal staircase waiting to greet them.

The bells were tolling, she was feeling faint, Robert's own presence the only thing that kept her from passing out or dying of heart failure and that was more likely than she could have imagined. The children would be arriving soon. The national anthem was playing."We'll be there soon," Robert said as people outside felt like an eternity. Black spots danced at the edge of her vision and she felt very, very faint. Like all the oxygen had drained.

 _I will not faint. I will not faint on this important occasion,_ she hissed to herself. It was just... State carriages and processions liked to take their time! Well, Aglaia couldn't promise that there wouldn't be a show, put on courtesy of the queen so long as this keeps up! Just not the one they wanted.

The normally patient queen silently fumed. Yes, the Lord (or Lady) Speaker was arriving at that moment, followed by the Lord Chancellor and someone carrying the great! Aglaia nearly collapsed and wept in relief when the carriage rolled in.

Thankfully, no one apart from Robbie knew about her state.

The royal anthem, God Save the King was sounding on the trumpets. Drums were booming, and this was what the British excelled at: pomp and ceremony. You could get away with it in any other monarchy in the world, but not this one! A trumpet fanfare, someone shouting for the royal salute and the queen silently cursing her stars about her , she really hated- no, _loathed,_ carriage rides.

She was quite sure her father never had to do this, nor did her uncle Valdemar, king of Denmark.

 _"Why me?"_ She moaned under her breath. Mercifully, the door was opened, Robert got out and helped Aglaia who struggled to contain her relief. The sudden surge of oxygen flowed like a life-saver, which it was, through her lungs. Everyone bowed or saluted.

The Lord Great Chamberlain and the Earl Marshall greeted them, but one of them hid a look of concern when he saw the queen's expression. _Get a hold of yourself! Smile!_ Aglaia ordered herself. That was easy once she had gotten out.

Now all she had to do was go up the staircase under heavy escort and into the robing room where she could collapse for a few minutes and that she did.

Aglaia gave a moan and sagged against a chair. The selected ladies-in-waiting rushed forwards before she could fall, but Robert was already there.

One of them took a fan and waved it on the queen's face. Another one produced a water bottle which refreshed her. Robert steadied her, lifting her up, ever so slightly."Are you sure you can manage it?" He asked, anxiously.

"I'll be fine." She answered. "I am now that I've recovered from… Riding the thing." She gave a revolted winced.

"What thing?" One of the ladies, Lady Mary Crawford, asked.

"The state carriage," Aglaia muttered. "I absolutely loathe carriage rides. I have a phobia."

Well, their faces were priceless. Imagine a queen saying that. Aglaia gave Robert a look. "The things I do for love." He smiled sheepishly. Beck hurried back in full military ceremonial dress bending over concernedly."Do you think," he began hesitantly. Aglaia shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she said a little more harshly than she meant to. "I have to. Even if it kills me."

"Unbelievable." Her husband muttered. Next thing the outside world was aware of, were the sounds of fanfare, and the king and queen in ermine-trimmed state robes, a military uniform and a formal gown respectively, making their way out.

The king now wearing the crown through the royal gallery to the Prince's Chamber and into the House of Lords. Right behind them were the princes and princess who had arrived before their after she had arrived in Britain as its queen, it had never gotten any easier.

This was William, Andrew and Selena's first attendance at the ceremonial opening of parliament, to mark their coming of age that year. Entering through to the House of Lords they made their way to the dual thrones of gold gilt, Aglaia occupying the smaller throne, the pageboys arranging the ermine-trimmed velvet robes neatly. Robert had taken his seat. "My lords, pray be seated." He said all sat.

Robert gave the signal, and Black Rod- or the Gentleman of the Black Rod, the king's representative, carrying _the_ black rod- went down to the House of Commons.

Aglaia stole a secret glance at her children. Tall and straight, they were calm and at ease. But this year, the vultures would descend. This year, they became adults. This year, the paparazzi would have no inhibitions, their every action would be scrutinised by the public, and their hordes of screaming fans, sycophants, gold-diggers and others would do everything they can to be close to them, to take advantage of their status- everything.

Black Rod strode down to the House of Commons, only for him to hear: "Close the doors!" And the door to be slammed shut in his face. That was tradition. Another reason why no royal will ever set foot in the House of Commons where MPs were elected from the public. A symbol of the people's rights and the government's independence from the monarchy.

After knocking, receiving permission to enter, Black Rod announced. "Mr. Speaker. The king commands this honourable house-" bow to the left, bow to the right. "To attend His Majesty immediately in the House of Peers."

He stood aside and someone took the mace. But someone said: "Is the old geezer still in the palace? Thought you would've locked him up in the Tower of London by now."

Laughter rang through the House of Commons. That was MP Mikey Davids. The most outspoken MP out there. He was referring, of course, to the deposed king Cyrus.

And while seeing the necessity and having respect for the royal couple (as individuals, not as symbols) he didn't see it necessary to spend huge sums of money on other royals. Especially with the need for benefits in some was a symbol of the old days. He was mistrusted, and while more and more people were approving of Liam and Eleanor nowadays, they still had a long way to go. Mikey Davids knew that neither of them felt no remorse nor the slightest bit of hesitation when they went on lavish shopping trips or holidays in Monaco or across the pond, partied without underwear, photographed with strippers or anything. Sometimes, he bordered on anti-monarchism, but not with this king and queen. At least the twins themselves were shaping up; Cyrus was a waste of the taxpayers' money. They should've been spending sums on housing benefits not imported liquor.

As soon as the MPs had arrived and were seated, Robert began his speech. Aglaia had run it through. Precise, on-the-point, no droning on and on. No extensive, fancy formalities.

The state of the kingdom was impressive. Robert encouraged its growth, and boosted morale of MPs, peers, military personnel and civilians. And yes, his wife knew exactly what he should say. She'd monitored all this. They had written this jointly.

"This year, we are presented with the image of a nation, which I am proud to say, stands proudly amidst all the nations of this world. As a nation, we have grown, we have stumbled, but never have we fallen and now we stand tall." And the speech went on describing the state of the nation and the problems presented before them.

"Years have passed since my late father died," he said, in the climax of the speech. "And I came back to find a nation whose trust had been severely shaken in its leaders, and not without reason. I swore it would never happen again, that if I could, king or not, I would make this right. All these years I have striven for it. And now I ask you: have I done the task that you presented to me?"

A universal echo of 'Yes!' Was heard all around. Cheers and cries of approval. People were actually standing and clapping for the king and queen, inside and outside of the House of Peers. Robert waited for the applause to subside.

"And this year, we mark the beginning of something new yet again." A smile. "This year, for us, a new generation is ready to take on the world. What country will we leave behind when our time is done? Will we leave a nation that is firm and proud in the fact that it is no less great, and possibly greater than what our ancestors carved for us in the past, on armour and horseback? Our will we falter?"

Cheers of approval. William, Prince of Wales, glanced at his father. The Duke of Kent, his younger brother and the Princess Royal, their sister, watched him carefully as they did the others in the House of Peers.

 _At last,_ Robert thought. _I've done it. I've achieved this._ He hadn't known he'd been searching and reaching towards this goal, his kingdom's prosperity and approval, his entire life (or maybe he had, but he didn't realise how much it resonated deeply within him). But now, at last, he'd found it. He glanced at his wife who stood by his side, smiling graciously. And now he knew. He really understood he would never have done this without her.

Among the people clapping were their triplets. Next to Will or William Prince of Wales, as he was known, stood Andrew. Andrew's green eyes, jade-green like his uncle Dimitri, turned towards his younger sister. Selena's own emerald eyes were serene, and she smiled benignly as she clapped politely. The eldest of the triplets' eyes were fixed upon his father and mother as they accepted the people's approval and warmth.

* * *

The triplets walked the public corridors of Windsor Castle. They were dressed formally. Andrew had completed his military training and so did Andrew, so they both wore full military ceremonial dress, in black with medallions, honours and orders. Selena wore a formal evening gown in silver with the royal family order which featured a miniature portrait of her father, mounted on a frame of diamonds with a red enamel crown on a ribbon of yellow watered silk.

"He's done well," Andrew remarked, as he cast his eyes around the castle corridors. "No one had ever received a king so well in this country."

"They received grandfather, but true enough, you do have a point," his sister spoke.

"Yes, but only time will tell how long that will last." Will remarked sagely. He looked at the passing footmen and said: "I wonder how he did it?"

"What?" Andrew looked at him. "Capture people's attention to such a high degree, and their approval. It's like he captivates them."

"Mother captivates them." Selena smirked. Out of all the three siblings, she was the one who looked most like their mother. A beauty with black hair in a lush cascade of loose curls pinned to one side and flowing down her back, her emerald eyes sparkling and dancing mischievously. "Father has had to earn their approval the hard way."

Andrew laughed. "He's quite good-looking you know. Our parents haven't aged much."

"Not even Granny's aged much," Selena said, suddenly bored. "Or Giagiá and Pappoús. So, we're coming of age this year. And you two are- what? Off to military training and what do I get to do? Stay home?" She sounded bitter.

"You know this isn't the dark ages," Andrew pointed out. "There is no law that bans women from enrolling in the military nowadays." Will stated.

"Tell that to Dad." She muttered."He's just thinking about the succession." Andrew shrugged. "Two heirs in the military? You do realise that starting from this year we'll no longer be allowed to travel together, just in case accidents happen?"

Selena laughed and said. "Accidents and Veruca Popperwell.""And Cyrus." Andrew whispered. They snickered amidst themselves.

"But then again," he amended. "You'll always be Daddy's little girl."

Selena halted her laughter almost immediately. "Thanks a bunch, brother-dear," she said winked. "You're welcome, Little Sister." He chuckled as Selena- covertly- smacked him on the 's eyes were far away. Will did not smile.

Selena gave him a concerned glance. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," he immediately replied. "Leave the lying to the politicians, why don't you, brother," Andrew whispered. "Something's up. Tell me."

"Later," Will pacified as they entered the banquet hall.

"The President is coming tomorrow." Selena stated. "The grenadiers are rehearsing tonight."

That was true. Will almost pitied them, but he knew it would chafe on them to be pitied. Tonight would be wet and cold, the forecast said. The triplets entered the dining room, and the king looked up and nodded at his children's arrival.

"Such a monumental day," Aglaia murmured from beside him. Robert's lips twitched into a smile.

"A monumental year," he corrected, smiling at her. "We need to talk afterwards," she told him. "About the triplets."

Robert looked and saw her seriousness. He nodded, wondering what this was all about. The guests were being escorted, to their seats. Will helped Selena into was not a state banquet. And King Cyrus, as technically he was, being crowned, sworn in, anointed and what-not, was not present. As far as Will was concerned, there could only be one true king, and that was not his that was not _that_ king. A true king. He looked at his dad who was deep in discussion with some minister. King Robert always so regal and impressive in his Irish Guards Mounted Officers uniform, with or without his forage cap (currently without). The queen, their mother was in an evening gown. Will caught her eye and smiled. He received a smile in return, but soon she began discussing something with someone beside her. Some official.

Aglaia had not aged a day since she married, or so it appeared. Her hair was still black as polished jet, deeper even, and her lovely face still unlined, skin flawless and beautiful, figure still to die for. But then again, their aunts and uncles didn't age much either. The really impressive one were their grandmothers, Queen Anastasia, still surrealistically gorgeous (like their mother) and Queen Helena, who appeared fabulous despite her age. The Queen Mother was speaking to three politicians at once, but Aglaia commanded everyone's attention. Every eye was magnetically pulled towards her, even the magnetically charismatic Robert shone like the sun only with her by his side.

Things were going to change this year, Will realised. The triplets were coming of age. The media scrutiny would be more intense, and expectations were piling. People wondered what the youngest Henstridge generation would bring to their table. Would he bring prosperity just as his father and grandfather did?

Or something else entirely?

* * *

Will found his father on the balcony, gazing up at the stars.

"Sometimes I wonder what your grandfather would say if he saw us down here," he murmured, still looking up. "I wonder if he'd approve."

"He'd be proud." Will walked up next to him. Robert gave a sad smile. "Don't be so sure. He wanted to abolish the monarchy."

"The referendum talks were only after you 'died'." Will pointed out. Robert didn't reply. "Uncle Liam's coming back in two days," he didn't say anything. "Yes." He finally said.

"I've always wondered… What happened between you both?" He began. "And to this whole family? Why-" he didn't know how to say it. What happened to make the House of Henstridge go against one another?

"William," Robert used his whole name. He turned towards his firstborn. "Nothing's as simple as it appears to be."

"You and Mum have taught me our entire lives the importance of strong family ties, particularly if you live such a public life," Will pointed out.

"And I don't take that back. That's why I want you, and Andrew and Selena to have a happy, loving family and a bond between the three of you."

Will was silent. "But what happened? Why does Granny and Great-Uncle Cyrus-" Robert grimaced.

"Don't," he said. "Your grandmother and Cyrus were allies once. You could even call it friendship. They shared many things in common."

"Including Alexander McQueen," Will muttered. Robert chuckled softly. "Yeah, including that."

"If I'm going to be king someday, I need to learn how to avoid… That," Will insisted. Robert looked at the distance again. "It's complicated," he admitted quietly.

"Then tell me, why was Uncle Cyrus crowned king?" Robert paused. "If you really had died, why didn't Uncle Liam-" he trailed off.

"Your grandmother," Robert said quietly. "Is a good woman. Even if it isn't always so obvious, she does love her family. When she was young… Her mother wanted her to be Prince Simon's wife."

Will did not take his eyes off his father.

"She was one of the leading beauties of her day, but Prince Simon had his eyes on another girl. Her name was Dominique, Dominique Stewart. She came from a long line of heroes and aristocracy, and they knew each other even when they were young. He called her Domino, because when he was small, he couldn't pronounce her name properly. And then she went on a horseback ride, and the horse came back… Without its rider."

Will was very still.

"Her body was found not long after. She had broken her neck, which was unusual since she was a good rider. But with Prince Simon as heir to the throne without any children, he had to marry someone. He ended up choosing Helena, but I think she knew… They did love each other. They had three children and raised them, tackled the challenges of being king and queen together, you'd have to be utterly cold and heartless not to feel some level of affection after all that. But Helena was never the great love of his life, unlike your mother was for me." He paused.

"Helena never wanted to be queen, not at first. She loved someone else." Robert hesitated, but figured his son ought to know the truth. "His name was Alistair Lacey. He was a captain, and based on what I know, after I was out of my infanthood, during which she suffered Post-Partum depression, it became painfully obvious that while their marriage wasn't that unhappy, it wasn't as fulfilling as she'd hoped it would be. She turned to him for comfort." Robert paused again.

"Captain Lacey… Well, she began seeing him around the time your aunt and uncle were conceived." Will's eyes widened. "I know what you're thinking. It wasn't as simple as you think. That," he said turning. "Is why you must always be careful who you marry and fall in love with Will. Even if you're tempted, even if you burn for her…" Robert paused. In truth, he would've married Aglaia either way. "Don't marry unless you're certain you know her and you're both happy. Promise me, Will.""I promise," Will said quietly.

"And then, after Liam and Eleanor were born, they carried on in secret. And then…" He stopped. How could he say it? How could he say the reason why his father was murdered?"Cyrus burst in when Liam was about to be sworn in."

"But is Uncle Liam and Aunt Eleanor-"

"Will, I _promise_ you, your aunt and uncle are your grandfather's children, it's been proven," Robert said flatly."They could've proved it sooner," Will muttered. "Then tell me, Dad, what happened between you and Uncle Liam?"

"What makes you think anything happened between us?"

"Well… When he does come home, you rarely talk. You barely look at one another. You don't go anywhere near his vicinity. Yet by the way Auntie Len tells it, the two of you were close when you were kids. Gran said the same thing. Everyone says that."

Robert really had nothing to he could formulate a response, however, the door opened.

"Yes?" Aglaia entered. "Robbie, Will," she said in surprise. "Mum," Will said."I was wondering where either of you might've been." She smiled in smiled warmly, all tension forgotten.

"Everything's fine." He looked at Will. "We were just having a talk."

"Right. Well, I was hoping to have a talk with you," Aglaia said. "Will, darling would it be alright if…"

"Right, of course, Mum." He kissed his mother's cheek on the way smiled at her son before turning to her husband.

"What's happened?" She asked, forced a mechanical smile. "Nothing, love." He kissed her."Are you sure?" She asked sceptically. Then she sighed. "President Shangaan will be arriving tomorrow." The South African president. "And your brother." Robert was regarded him. "You're not going to speak to me about Liam, are you?" She asked. The last time they spoke about him there was a confrontation which turned into a fight- albeit a very short one. Ever since then the brothers… Well, nothing had been the here I thought they were close, she thought.

Robbie and Laia had a policy: don't ask if they won't tell. Aglaia wasn't stupid. After years as Robert's queen consort, his wife and the mother of his children, she'd learned more than she would've liked about the House of Henstridge. One of which was that Robert and Liam, despite their obvious love and affection for one another, had had a complicated relationship. Liam had stepped into his brother's shoes when the latter had disappeared and was falsely presumed dead due to Ted Pryce. And despite struggling at first, he had grown into the role, and hashtag: King Liam (now a distant, long-forgotten memory), a term coined by Willow, her children's godmother and her brother's ex-girlfriend, became popular. Well, it was him against Cyrus, take your pick. He still sported the mohawk which looked absurd on him (he didn't shave it very well), in a way that it never did to David Beckham. And despite downing tremendous amounts of alcohol, Cyrus was still breathing, which she sensed people were becoming frustrated about (her mother and brothers certainly were, it was hard to tell with her father). When she thought about it, Aglaia felt sorry for Cyrus, knowing that everyone wanted him gone and preferably, soon. Her husband was king. Their eldest son, his successor someday. That much could not be disputed. There was no way for Cyrus to dispute their paternity or the legality of their parents' marriage, and even if this was so, there was still Liam and Len.

Anyway, back to Liam: Aglaia knew that Liam had grown from an unrestrained, party-boy prince to… Well, a man. He wasn't perfect but he was growing into the role and had people's love and respect on him when he was finally proven to be Simon's son- until Robert appeared out of nowhere, and pushed him back into his petty as that might seem, that had to be difficult. And she knew Liam had fallen for Kathryn Davies, Robert's girlfriend prior to his 'death'. Kathryn had chosen Robert- wounding Liam, only for Robert to find out that she and his brother were shagging and that Liam had wanted to make a move on her this whole yes, that was salt poured into the wound. But there was something more, she knew. Besides, Liam had truly grown into a man and that was years ago.

She just knew Robert just wouldn't tell her. Len and Helena didn't know either, any more than Jasper maybe Jasper did. Realising that, Aglaia instead chose to say something else.

"I need to talk to you," she said. "About Selena." He looked puzzled.

"What about her?"Aglaia shook her head. "Robbie, Selena told me that you've denied her request to be trained as a cadet."

"Of course." Robert said, more forcefully than he meant to. "She's much too young." He then cursed his stupidity in saying that. Slip of the tongue.

"Only by three minutes," Aglaia scoffed. "I should know. I was there. Why are you insisting on cooping her up in here, when her brothers are undergoing their military training? They've passed their Cambridge level examinations. They've shone. They're academically brilliant, athletic, and well, they're eager to prove themselves and go out into the world, instead of being shadowed."

Robert winced."They have a great deal to do in their lives, and at this point,"

Aglaia had stepped even closer. "Their horizons should be expanding. Broadening."

Robert sighed, exasperated. "She's third in line. She already has two older brothers in the military, it's too risky to put all the heirs in the front- and I know that's exactly what they want." To fight. Not simple ceremonial duties.

"You're not doing this because she's the girl, are you?" His wife asked.

"Of course not," Robert denied immediately. She arched a delicate brow. "Well, that's part of it. You know they won't be given any special privileges simply because they're my children. Every year, No, Laia, _listen,_ every year, women in the armed forces file complaints and charges against the men in their barracks-"

"Oh, for goodness' sake," Aglaia interrupted him. "She's the king's _daughter._ Do you think, even if she doesn't have any special privileges, that they would risk touching her? And if word gets out- which it will-"

"You don't know that," Robert said darkly. "Do you think she wants public humiliation?" That admittedly, was true. "And she's not staying in the same barracks as the men. They'll be a bad influence." He walked to the fireplace, eyes staring darkly at the flames.

"Like they may not be a bad influence on Will and Andrew?" She asked. "Will and Andrew have learnt _discipline,"_ Robert insisted. "And Selena won't?" She sighed. "She can't be your little girl forever."

Robert's eyes narrowed. "But she's third in line. And I'm not leaving the throne to bloody Cyrus and Liam in case anything happens." Which knowing their luck, it _will,_ sooner or later. The years in which the triplets had grown up and matured had been far too quiet. Aglaia froze, and was about to open her mouth to ask what he meant about Liam, but Robbie continued: "All these years, Veruca Popperwell is still in asylum in Swaziland. The king's new wife, his idiot son's mother, has somehow persuaded the king to allow her to stay- indefinitely. It's bad enough I have to risk my sons- what if something were to happen to them? It nearly did to me- I was on an uninhabited island for a year. My father was murdered. I am not risking any of you more than I have to!" At this exclamation, he strode towards his wife and kissed her full on the mouth.

"Don't make me lose you," he whispered hoarsely, staring into her eyes. "Any of you."

Aglaia embraced and kissed him. But afterwards, she made up her mind to ask Jasper about all of this.

* * *

Will walked through the corridors, trying to find his siblings.

It was getting dark, he thought. And rather late, but he knew his siblings were up.

He loved it here. Windsor Castle, better than Blenheim Palace, which was rich with tension, intrigue and Cyrus. You could smell the stench of his cologne, brandy and cognac a mile away. Or gin and tonic.

As Will walked the corridors, he spotted an open door, slightly ajar. He frowned. There was no one nearby.

He pushed the door open. Inside was no lighting, but bathed in moonlight, it illuminated the room in silvery-white. There, standing in front of a portrait was…

King Simon. Father to King Robert, Liam and Eleanor Henstridge. Will had seen that face in photographs, news reels, home videos and paintings. He had never met the man, but he knew. He was certain.

Just as he remembered… Something.

"The board is set," King Simon said softly in that strong, yet calm, sad voice. "The pieces will move into place. Guided by the hands of the players… As difficult as this may seem, the curtains will draw revealing you to become the greatest king Britain has ever seen."

Will's eyes widened. Just as he began to think this was a hallucination, the mirage, illusion or indeed, ghost, of his long-dead grandfather whom he had never met, had disappeared. Vanished into thin air.

* * *

 **So the triplets have grown up. I know it was quick, but it was necessary, because they are going to be main characters soon. The 'ghost' of Aglaia's ex-boyfriend is still there, just biding his time. And unfortunately, Veruca's waited long enough.**


End file.
